


The Beginning?

by amooniesong



Series: The Prophecy Unfolds [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Amputation, Blood, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manhunt AU, Mask and Goggles, Minecraft but... it's in real life, More tags will be added as this progresses, Pining, Prophecy, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, The End, The Nether (Minecraft), colourblind george, references to skephalo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: Minecraft Speedrunner VS 3 HuntersIn this real life take on the Speedrunner vs Hunter series, the game is brought to a dramatic early end. George has managed to push Dream into a ravine and George, Sapnap and Bad have won before Dream could even collect any wood. But unlike normal, their friend hasn't respawned: Dream's body is at the bottom of a deep ravine and the trio will have to adventure to find a way to bring their friend back, knowing that if they take their last breath it really will be their last.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: The Prophecy Unfolds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818868
Comments: 538
Kudos: 898





	1. The Friends & The Fall

The gentle pull of the tide brought waves rolling onto shore, a soft rumble as the crests fell against the sand and rushed against the gradual slope, before gravity took hold once more and the water raced back down to the sea. The beach was covered in a thin film of foam left behind by the waves; the pebbles and shells arranged by forces of nature, undisturbed by man. A breeze whistled through the leafs of nearby trees, rustling and tugging until the entropy of the universe decided that it was time for the foliage to continue its journey elsewhere. The scene perfectly encapsulated just how untouched the continent was - how well preserved the land had been by those that called it their home. As the setting sun reflected against the rippling tide - the ocean shimmering like glitter as the sun perfectly caught the peak of each ridge - the sound of laughter broke the delicate balance, a cacophony of joy disturbing the wildlife that had just begun to rest.

Two large splashes interrupted the rhythm of the ocean followed by footsteps as the two men dragged their feet through the shallow water, complaining amicably of how wet their socks had become. They emerged from the sea quickly, the saltwater dripped from their garments onto the sand that shifted under their feet as they each pulled a boat to shore. The sand crunched as it was parted, two more men clambering out and grabbing near empty rucksacks from the small wooden vessels. They handed the bags out amongst themselves, spreading the burden equally as they continued on their journey.

The quartet walked along the beach in harmony, the warmth of the evening sun colouring the world around them with intense yellows and oranges. As they crossed from dunes into grassland, their pace quickened as their feet found more grip on the earth beneath them. Long blades of grass brushed against their ankles, tickling any exposed skin and waving lazily in the wind.

“You don’t stand a chance.”

Sapnap’s voice broke the silence, cutting through the cool twilight air. He brought a hand to his hair, fingers parting and pushing it back from his face before he fiddled gently with his bandana, tightening the knot behind his head. Dream laughed loudly, his familiar wheeze surrounding them all and causing his friends to descend into fits of giggles of their own.

“The reigning champion?” Dream teased, nudging his friend in the side, his elbow pressing against him just hard enough to make the younger man squirm. “ _ You  _ don’t stand a chance. You’ve never beaten me, you  _ suck _ .”

“I think we all know if any of us is going to kill Dream, it’ll be me.” George said, a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye - though this true show of confidence was hidden behind the dark lens of his clout goggles. The wind blew his hair into his face a little as he spoke, his lips pushing forward into a soft pout as he tried to return it to where it had sat before. 

“We’re not killing anyone until tomorrow, you muffins.” Bad chimed in, turning to face the three men to his left as they walked. With his hood over his head he was engulfed in shadow, but the smile on his face shone as brightly as it always did. “We don’t need to be competitive now - let’s just  _ enjoy  _ being here!” He said, gesturing with his arm to the forest around them. It was true that the part of the world they were in was undeniably beautiful. The ground undulated beneath their feet - climbing gradually as the open field turned slowly into a dense forest. A thick canopy of leaves blocked out was what left of the setting sun and towering dark oak trees dictated their path through the wilderness. Lilies-of-the-valley grew in large groups on the ground, bursting with life even as autumn was beginning to draw in, and their scent carried in the air mixed with petrichor and mulch. As insects buzzed harmoniously around them they fell once more into a comfortable silence, enjoying their time together but feeling drowsiness begin to cling to their bones. As they summited a small hill they could see the faint glow in the distance of a bustling village - glowstone and lanterns lighting the tight streets and small homes as people enjoyed their evenings. From that distance it was still impossible for the group to hear the hubbub of activity, but they found themselves reinvigorated and re-energized as they continued to walk. 

Sapnap - the youngest of the group - was quick to announce a race down the hill. But of course he began to run as he started to speak, the words falling from his mouth with a breathless laugh of glee.

“Last to the bottom is buying drinks.” He said, already a number of paces ahead. George was the first to react, never one to take a competition with Sapnap lightly, and Dream was close behind - his long strides allowing him to catch up and find himself in the lead before long. Bad stopped in his tracks, watching the three of them run with a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head -  _ children _ . As George went for an overtake, Sapnap reached out with one arm and shoved the older man. George quickly lost his balance, slipping on the ground beneath him and falling with a  _ thud  _ onto his back. As Sapnap continued to laugh and run, Bad crossed to his friend and offered him a hand. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, watching George carefully as he got to his feet in case he showed any sign of injury. 

“I’m gonna kill Sapnap.” George replied simply, and Bad decided that his phrase was proof enough that he hadn’t sustained any kind of permanent or significant injury. He stopped worrying and let George continue to run after his friends - yelling incoherently at Sapnap with Bad left to simply call  _ language!  _ after them, his words falling on deaf ears as Sapnap was tackled to the ground and the two men cursed as they slid down the hill together - play fighting and ending up in a tangled heap, covered in mud at Dream’s feet.

“Looks like the drinks are on you!” Dream called up to Bad with a grin on his face.

“I wasn’t taking part, you muffin head!” Bad protested, but he hardly fought his case particularly hard. He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking down the hill to join his friends at the bottom as they continued their journey. 

Their peaceful surroundings were now utterly ruined by George and Sapnap bickering about who had sabotaged who, Dream eventually stepping between them to try and keep their playful banter bubbling into something more serious. It didn’t take long for their argument to subside, and by the time the ground beneath their feet turned from grass into cobblestones the four once again walked together cheerfully. Come tomorrow they’d be running for their lives but for now they could simply enjoy each other’s company. Dream opened the door to the inn, letting the three of them enter before following behind. While he, George and Sapnap searched for a free table Bad held up his obligation to buy drinks for the group - heading to the bar to order and to inquire about rooms for the night.

Hardwood floorings creaked beneath Bad’s feet as he stood between two stools at the bar, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bag of emeralds as he waited to be served. The room was filled with chatter, warmth emanating from both the crackling fire and the sheer number of people that packed in to enjoy an evening with their loved ones. As the man behind the bar turned his attention to Bad he ordered for the four of them - knowing each of their preferred drinks without having to ask - and was directed to a younger woman to ask about a place to stay for the night. After a short conversation he parted with several of his jewels, thanked the woman for her help, and took a tray of drinks as he squeezed through the crowd of people to find his friends.

The three had found a booth towards the back of the pub, seats plush with purple velvet coverings - stained and scratched from years of use - and waved to catch Bad’s attention. Dream and George were sitting next to each other, the younger man with an arm loosely thrown behind George in a way that made Bad smirk: neither of them had a clue. He placed the tray of drinks onto the table and sat beside Sapnap, taking the drinks and setting them in front of his friends - soft drinks for Dream and Sapnap, red wine for George, and a gin and tonic for himself.

“Where’s my curly straw?” Dream pouted, pushing his mask up his face a little so his expression could be seen by his friends. Sapnap mock gasped from across the table.

“The turtles, Dream!” He exclaimed, bringing a hand to his head as if he was going to faint. George and Bad laughed, and Dream took a cube of ice from his drink and tossed it towards Sapnap, the younger man hitting it back at Dream. Somehow, the cube landed back in Dream’s drink with a gentle  _ plop  _ and the four of them cheered loudly, settling back in their seats and taking small sips from their glasses. Unconsciously, George leaned back and rested his head against the crook of Dream’s neck, and Sapnap glanced to Bad as he raised his eyebrows a few times. The two of them laughed quietly, amused by the other mens’ blindness, before conversation started up again. Despite spending most of their days together they never seemed to run out of things to talk about, and that evening was no different. As the topic of conversation covered ridiculous childhood stories, things they’d seen on their journey and banter regarding their planned hunt, the pub began to empty. The crackling fire faded, embers burning slowly and popping infrequently as it was left to die, and the four men began to yawn and stretch. After deciding that the night had drawn in and that they were tired enough, they got to their feet with their bags and picked up their glasses, returning them to the bar and leaving a few emeralds as a tip for the staff before thanking them and bidding them goodnight.

The weather from earlier had turned dramatically and thunder rumbled from the horizon, a crack of lightning suddenly striking a few miles to the North. While it hadn’t begun to rain just yet it was easy to see that a storm was coming - quick, intense, and heavy. The four made their way to the bunkhouse quickly, stepping inside just as rain began to pour. They changed into their night clothes, said their goodnights, and clambered into bed. Drifting off to sleep was easy and came quick, lulled by the thunder and the heavy drops of rain around them. 

As the eye of the storm moved over the village the wind picked up and the lightning struck closer to home. While the men slept the world around them changed, and the ramifications wouldn’t be known until it was far,  _ far  _ too late.

# # # 

Dawn broke peacefully on the sleepy village, the sun letting her rays slowly seep into the cracks of each building. The world around them began to awaken, squirrels descending from trees to continue their foraging as they prepared for winter, birds beginning to fly south for the day in search of warmer lands. The people were some of the last to wake up, and the four men in the bunkhouse were no different. They’d been given a room together, Sapnap and George both claiming the top bunks of their beds now the first to rise as sunlight streamed over their faces. While they weren’t going to cheat, they  _ were  _ going to spend some time scoping out their surroundings before Dream woke up. They had already formulated a plan with Bad in order to beat Dream as quickly as possible that year, already assigned themselves tasks to make everything work as smoothly as possible, and the pair walked in near silence through the dewey fields that surrounded the village. 

“There’s a pit over there.” Sapnap said, removing one hand from his pocket to point towards the rising sun in the East. “Lead Dream this way and he might be too bothered by the sun to make the jump.”

“Dream’s not an idiot.” George replied, not looking at Sapnap. If he did, he would’ve seen the younger man pulling a face as if to say  _ are you sure?  _ George continued to head towards the pit, stopping a few paces from the edge and looking down. From here it was much more than a pit - it was a ravine plunging deep into the heart of the earth - he could barely see the bottom but he could see that the walls were littered with resources. If he  _ did  _ manage to dupe Dream into falling he would have to be certain that the man would die, otherwise he’d be in an excellent position. So long as Dream couldn’t get hold of any wood before falling he would be stuck for an age, unable to make any real progress. George raised a hand above his eyes to shield his vision from the sun and looked to the otherside - gravel. If he jumped first he could kick away some of the ground with his landing, making it damn near impossible for Dream to land even the most calculated jump.

“It’s a good start.” George said. Something inside of him was repulsed at the idea of causing Dream to fall such a long way - respawning didn’t always mean that pain would be avoided, and something had changed in the last year. The idea of hurting Dream had never been appealing but the game had always been fun, now when faced with the same situation he almost wished he had just been asked to find resources. “Let’s try and find somewhere for you and Bad to start gathering supplies, we can try and head back before Dream realises we’ve disappeared and figures out what we’re up to.”

Sapnap nodded, looking around to see where the field began to slope upwards and away from the forest. Nodding in that direction he took off with George close behind, any uncomfortable thoughts lingering in his stomach evaporating as he focused once more on planning. This was going to be their quickest hunt yet, Dream didn’t stand a chance. They spent a little longer walking, discussing their plan and finding areas that would allow them to quickly and safely build a portal, continuing until the sun had risen fully above the horizon. The hunt would begin soon and the four of them would indulge in one final meal together before they went their separate ways. 

Arriving back in the bunkhouse they had spent the night in, Sapnap and George found Dream and Bad stripping the sheets from their beds and slipped easily into a helpful routine as they packed their few belongings into their bags, the four then heading together to have breakfast.

There was a tension between the group that hadn’t been there the night before, although that was no surprise, there was bound to be tension when you were eating waffles opposite the three men that would be hunting you down in a matter of minutes. Still, they managed to make small talk over the table - discussing how their meals tasted, the weather or the coffee, and before too long their plates were empty, knives and forks neatly placed next to each other and napkins scrunched up. 

“Do you want a head-start?” Sapnap asked, a smirk sitting comfortably on his face as he leaned back on his chair and crossed his legs. “You look like you need one.”

“Ha.” Dream said, deadpan as he adjusted his mask to full cover his face. “You just want an extra couple of minutes sitting on your ass. Stay here as long as you want, but I’m off.” He told them, standing up with one hand on the back of his chair as he grabbed his backpack. George followed suit immediately, getting to his feet and mirroring Dream’s position exactly. 

“Not without me you’re not.”

“No chance in hell those legs of your can keep up with mine.”

“I’ll show you  _ exactly  _ what my legs can do.”

“Oh my  _ God _ !” Sapnap groaned. “Get a room you two! Some of us have just had our breakfast, we don’t want to think about that!”

“Sapnap!” George said as he turned to face him, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. “That’s disgusting, we don’t mean--”

“George, he’s getting away!” Bad exclaimed, grabbing his bag from the floor and quickly starting to run in the direction of the cave scouted out earlier, Sapnap scrambling to follow suit as fast as he could, leaving George to turn on his heels and begin chasing Dream.

“Oh  _ Dream! _ ” He yelled, pushing through the crowds of people that had filled the village streets in the morning to make sure he didn’t lose sight of Dream. The man, thankfully, was tall, and his green hoodie stood out in the crowd full of people. Even if he  _ did  _ lose sight of Dream at this point he could fall back on the GPS that would point him in the direction of his friend but his pride was on the line - he couldn’t use anything to help him this soon.

His feet hit the cobblestones rhythmically, his breathing quickly becoming heavier as the two emerged from the village and were able to run faster and more freely. Cobble turned to mud, turned to grass, and the flat paths turned to a slope as Dream ran - annoyingly - in the complete opposite direction of the ravine. Had he spotted the obstacle already, or was he just trying to avoid the sun? It didn’t matter, the plan was to get him into the ravine as soon as possible and he’d lose. George changed his path just a little, trying to get between Dream and the dark forest they’d walked through the night before as quickly as possible. If he got wood - and somehow survived the fall - he’d be out of reach faster than they knew it. Forcing himself to run faster, his feet practically bouncing over the grass, he called out again.

“Dream! Stop, I just want to talk!”

“Go  _ away  _ George!” He laughed, grinning like a madman.  _ No one  _ should like being hunted down, certainly not as a game, but Dream always seemed to love it. With George threatening to cut him off he started to curve to the right. He took in his surroundings, trying to see what there was between him and the forest on the other side of the grassland. A small lake, a few little caves dotted around (any of which could harbour Bad and Sapnap, just waiting for an opportunity to strike), and a ravine. He’d pulled stupider stunts and they’d worked in his favour every time before, a ravine would work perfectly again. It was just a case of tricking George. While they played games like this he’d deliberately put down his friends to make sure they didn’t think they could gain the upperhand - those mental wargames had been the reason he’d won the last two years - but he knew that the man was smart. He’d probably spotted the ravine at the same time, and so Dream found himself running towards the lake.

“Dream?” George asked, the question posed to himself more than Dream as he ran after him, snaking and weaving through the grass curiously. He trampled through a small patch of flowers, the plants bouncing back to cover his tracks as he heard a splash.  _ Dream had jumped in _ . George felt a gentle laugh leave his lips and he rolled his eyes, running around the edge of the lake as Dream swam across. It was perfect, he could run around the left side and force Dream to escape to the left - straight towards the ravine. Dream was being an idiot, and George mentally praised himself for his ingenuity as the younger man quickly clambered out of the water. He was utterly drenched, his clothes clinging to him and his backpack likely full of water now, and that just gave George more of a chance to catch up. He pushed himself, focusing entirely on getting to the ravine before Dream did. He had to jump to the other side and push away the gravel, there was no chance in hell he’d miss the jump otherwise (and if Dream jumped first,  _ he  _ would probably be the one respawning from the bottom of the ravine).

“Come on George, let me go! This won’t be any fun if you don’t let me get any wood!” He complained, noticing George catching up. He forced himself to run faster, his heart thudding in his ears as blood pumped quickly to get as much oxygen to his muscles as possible. Any second now, he had to time it perfectly otherwise he’d miss the landing, and with George’s footsteps out of sync with his own it was difficult to tell where he was, but he forced himself to block it out. He focused on the wind running through his hair and whistling past his ears, his feet hitting the ground with loud,  _ wet  _ thuds, his waterlogged shoes making it difficult to retain too much grip. He couldn’t think about that now, he had to think about his jump.

In three…

Two…

_ One… _

George jumped a fraction of a second before Dream, the two men sailing across the gap in the world and using their arms to propel themselves forwards. With his left leg outstretched, George came skidding to a halt on the other side first. The skid dislodged the gravel beneath him, causing a few small pebbles to cascade below, bouncing off ledges before landing on the andesite at the bottom.

It hadn’t been enough to cause Dream to fall.

But Dream had miscalculated. The lack of grip from his wet shoes had given him less of a boost than he’d expected when he jumped, he hadn’t travelled as far, and three fingers of his right hand hooked into soil at the edge of the gravel patch were all that stopped him from falling. 

“George!” He said desperately, his voice faint. As he’d managed to grab hold of the cliff face he’d slammed his chest into rock and winded himself, and his voice was weak as he attempted to speak. “Come on, this isn’t fair. This is  _ way  _ too soon. This is no fun!”

“We’ll just start over if you’re that upset about it, Dream.” George said, kneeling down on the grassy bank beside the ravine and placing his hand over Dream’s. In another time or place he would’ve put his racing heart down to feelings that he was repressing (although the very point of repressing those feelings would have made him think twice before admitting to the fact that they were causing his heart to beat so fast). 

He moved his hand, fingers curling around one of Dream’s fingers and forcibly tugging it out of the ground so his grip was even weaker. His hold was giving way quickly and Dream was unable to pull himself up. His cocky nature had completely evaporated and he panicked, trying to reach up to George with his other arm and grab hold of the man. He knew he’d respawn, they always did, but it didn’t mean the pain wouldn’t hurt. 

“ _ Please-- _ ” He begged, looking up at George with wide eyes, but the older man simply removed a second finger and moved his hand away. Dream was strong, but holding his entire body weight by the tip of one finger was impossible and he felt what little grip he had left slip. Suddenly, nothing was keeping him from falling. 

So he fell.

His arms flailed and as he disappeared down the side of the ravine he managed to grab hold of George’s clout goggles, pulling them with him and snapping the straps from around his head. 

He hit the edge of a rocky outcrop, his right arm popping out of its socket with an unhealthy, painful pop and sending him spinning as he continued to descend. Dream closed his eyes, his body tensing up with pain and fear as he felt the wind rushing around him reach a plateau -  _ terminal velocity,  _ no surviving the fall now. He could only hope that his death would be instant and the pain wouldn’t last.

“I got him!” George cheered, peering down at his friend falling into the ravine. With the sun peaking in the sky he could see down perfectly, watching as he hit the floor and lay still.

“What?” Came a voice through the radio, Bad chirping to life. “You  _ actually got him?  _ How’d you get him so soon?!”

“A ravine!” He laughed, taking a few steps back from the edge to make sure he didn’t follow the man. He heard another cheer from the radio - this time coming from Sapnap.

“Yes, I told you that’d work! Muffinteers for the win!” 

George laughed breathlessly. He’d never dealt anything  _ close  _ to a final blow to Dream during one of their battles, and he lay back on the ground with a wide grin on his face. He felt the wind blow over his face, grass coming into view, and he frowned. Bringing his hands to his face he let out a quiet groan - Dream had pulled his goggles down with him, which explained why the grass had suddenly taken on a yellow hue. No matter, they could retrieve them later (or Dream could make another pair, he’d never actually mentioned how difficult they were to make), a few hours or days without them wouldn’t make too much of a difference, and he could definitely hide the effect not having them had on him from his friends.

“Dream, are you too mad to come and yell at us?” Bad asked down the radio. Dream turned off his radio whenever they hunted, but would immediately rejoin as he respawned to yell at the three of them when the game was over. The fact that he hadn’t said a word yet made George smile, he must’ve been  _ furious _ .

But when several long seconds passed after Bad asked the question, he felt his heart in his throat.

“Dream?” This time it was Sapnap’s voice filling the silence, and still no response came. 

George sat himself upright quickly, feet scrambling for purchase as he practically  _ dove  _ to the edge of the cliff to look down into the ravine.

Dream’s body lay there, mangled, broken, still. His arms were splayed out either side of him and his legs twisted in an awkward angle. It was impossible to see the details of his face from up here but George was certain he hadn’t moved since he’d made impact - and just out of reach he could see the shattered remains of a white, porcelain mask.

“Dream!” George called over the edge, not bothering to use the radio to try and contact his friend. Somehow, somewhere deep down in the pits of his stomach, he already knew that his friend wasn’t going to respond. He felt as though he was about to vomit, or perhaps cry, he wasn’t entirely sure, but his brain was moving far too fast to begin to process his emotions - and with Dream lying completely still at the bottom of a ravine he had  _ much  _ more important things to worry about.

**“DREAM!”**


	2. Ghast Tear & Dragon's Breath

George couldn’t physically move any faster than he was already going.

He already wasn’t thinking properly and he jumped from the edge of the ravine onto the ledge immediately below: his ankles cried out in pain at the impact. He was used to pain when he made a jump a little bit bigger than strictly safe but this time the sensation lingered, his ankles now a little unsteady as he began to make his descent once more. Something in the back of his mind had thankfully clicked enough to keep him from launching himself off the side and hoping to land in water, and with his ankles aching with every step he had a constant reminder that while he wanted to get to Dream quickly, Dream  _ needed  _ him to get to him safely. 

He lowered himself gradually from ledge to ledge, using any foothold he could find in the rockface to help him travel down as quickly as possible. While he tried to walk the tightrope of speed and safety he accumulated a number of injuries - his hands scraped against the side of the rocks, his fingers stained red with blood as he ignored the countless little cuts that littered his hands. As the wind blew, picking up speed as it was channeled through the tight twists of the ravine, George ignored the stinging. It hurt,  _ of course  _ it hurt, but nothing could hurt him more than the sight that awaited him at the bottom of the cliffs.

Despite his brain managing to restrain him for most of the descent, George jumped the last eight feet and heard a small crack coming from his already weakened ankles. He didn’t have time to care, not when Dream  _ still  _ hadn’t moved, when his chest was utterly still. He hadn’t respawned,  _ fuck  _ he hadn’t respawned! George could hear the radio at his side crackling to life, his prolonged silence and the unanswered calls to Dream worrying his friends greatly.

“Ravine, now.” He managed to utter, giving no further information as he forced himself to overlook his own pain to reach Dream’s side.

George fell to his knees beside Dream’s body, the andesite refusing to give him any relief as he stared at his friend, his breath hitched in his throat as he tried to think of his next move. He was afraid, seeing Dream so still was so unnatural, and he felt  _ unsure  _ if he could reach out and touch him. The history between them ached with every beat of George’s heart, and after what felt like an eternity he reached out, his hands grabbing hold of his shoulders and tugging him close against his chest. He doubled over, Dream’s head lolling onto George’s shoulder as he pressed his ears against his ribs and listened intently for the beat of his heart. 

George bit his tongue, hard, the bloody tips of his fingers digging into Dream’s shoulders as time marched on. He curled his body round the younger man, doing everything in his power to just hold on to the last fragile parts of his friend - as if it was utterly impossible that he would ever have to face the truth if he just stayed that way.

“Dream,  _ please _ …” He begged, the whisper barely making it passed his own lips before it was muffled against Dream’s body. The word fell from his lips again, and again, and again, before it became less of a word and more of a prayer, more warbled and strained as he struggled to annunciate until he was simply left sobbing. From a distance it would be easy enough to think that Dream’s body had reanimated, shaking in George’s arms as he began to break down. It was a game, a  _ stupid  _ game, why the hell had it gone so horribly wrong? His eyes squeezed shut and he held his body closer, sitting himself upright again so he could rock himself back and forth, holding Dream close as he tried to find an ounce of comfort.

His sobs faded as he found the strength to cry - the pain finding its way from his body through tears rather than torn screams - and he managed to pull back just a little bit to look at his friend for the first time. Although his vision was impaired - both through his color blindness and his tears - George couldn’t deny just how  _ beautiful  _ Dream was. He found himself reaching out with his fingers to softly touch his cheeks, tracing lines over his freckles with his calluses and trying not to think about just how much he was shaking. As blood stained Dream’s face it looked to the older man as though the movement was smudging the freckles, blending them into one, and George felt the broken remains of his heart shatter once more as he realised that the first time he was truly laying eyes on his best friend’s face, he couldn’t see it properly. He could make out details, but he couldn’t see the colour of his hair or lips, he would never know the real colour of his eyes, and it was enough for George to lean forward again. He buried his head in the crook of Dream’s neck, nose brushing against his long hair as he tried to ignore how cold his skin felt as he shook and cried.

“George!” 

Bad’s voice echoed in the world around him, carried down by the wind from the cliff edge above. George couldn’t hear, too far gone to be paying any attention to his surroundings. Without a response Bad didn’t know what was happening - although his stomach tied up in knots at the horrible prospect of what the scene below could be. Deliberately, he held out an arm to stop Sapnap from getting any closer and seeing for himself. The younger man and Dream had always been the best of friends, and while they were so far above and unable to do anything Bad didn’t want to risk Sapnap becoming impulsive. 

“We should dig down to get to them.” He said. They’d need a route back out of the ravine and it would be better to think ahead just a little bit now to save them all from trying to find a way out in the dark. Nodding, Sapnap silently began to work. He dug through the dirt quickly, a small mound forming at the top of the hole as they worked to create an angle they could walk back up at. As soon as they hit stone they switched tools for their pick-axes, making stone equipment as quickly as possible. 

They worked silently, a thin layer of sweat and dirt forming on their foreheads as worry drove them past the point of hunger and exhaustion and encouraged them to keep going. George still hadn’t radioed, hadn’t made any attempt to communicate, and each periodic look into the ravine that Bad made showed that George was still embracing Dream. They hadn’t moved, and the thoughts in Bad’s mind quickly went from bad to worse. He didn’t want to consider what they were about to see, even though at this point it was painfully clear to both men that there was only one answer to the unasked question.

Dream was dead.

They broke through the ravine wall at a ledge just a little way from the ground and Sapnap was the first to emerge, jumping out with no care for himself - displaying the exact kind of irrational behaviour that Bad had been worried about before. He rolled as he landed, his body jolting and a dull ache covering him, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from sprinting along the rocky floor to reach George and Dream’s side.

“Dream!” He called, knowing full well it was utterly useless as he looked at the man in George’s arms. His body was far more exposed than Sapnap had ever seen it before - his face completely on show - but he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be that pale just from hiding behind a mask his entire life, and the blue hue that was clinging to him couldn’t be explained in any other way.

As Sapnap arrived at George’s side, the older making no move to say that he’d even noticed his presence, he found himself reaching around both men. One arm moved around George to beckon him close - not wanting either of them to feel alone - and the other rested against Dream’s chest. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, just a wet stain from George’s tears. He felt sick, his bottom lip trembling, and he shook his head. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real, but the way that George was shifting to move closer to him rather than pushing him away and bickering told him that it  _ was _ . He blinked and silent tears began to trickle down his cheeks, and for now he didn’t give a damn if he appeared emotional. He  _ was  _ emotional, he was heartbroken. Dream had been his best friend for almost a decade, the two of them utterly inseparable since childhood: they’d learned to climb trees together, killed their first zombies together and built more redstone traps together than most well behaved people would have in their lifetimes. Sapnap felt his grip tighten on George, his fingers bunching up the sleeve of the man’s shirt to try and let out some of his pain that way. If he wasn’t careful his sadness would quickly build up into a white hot anger, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was lash out.  _ Dream  _ wouldn’t want him to yell at George.

“Please…” His voice was broken, high pitched and quiet, but there was no response. He didn’t have the strength to utter another word, afraid that if he did he’d lose himself entirely, and so the pleading that this was all just a horrible nightmare continued in his mind. There had to be something he could do, he’d give  _ anything  _ to have Dream back, even if that meant giving up his own life. Dream was like a brother to him, all the family he’d ever had or needed, and to think he would have to continue to live his own life without him?

Neither man heard the  _ thwip  _ of an arrow traveling through the air, and it took Sapnap a second to respond to it as it stuck in his left arm. He’d been too focused on Dream’s body to think about the pain in his shoulder until he heard a shout from Bad.

“In the shade!” He called, drawing his sword from his side and running between the skeleton and his friends. None of them had shields, but with the skeleton’s focus entirely on Sapnap, Bad was able to catch it by surprise. His call had been enough for Sapnap and George to be pulled out of their thoughts and duck as a second arrow flew narrowly over their heads. Bad took the opportunity to fight, his right hand moving to his shoulder to give himself as much power as he could behind the first hit - the skeleton now focusing its attention on Bad. He hit the skeleton with two quick successive parries - his sword cracking the monster’s bones until it was too weak and it crumbled to the ground, nothing more than a pile of remains. Normally he would have collected the bones or arrows, but his mind couldn't focus on the monster for long.

Sheathing his sword, Bad turned back to his friends and swallowed. He could feel himself shaking as he looked at Dream’s body, lying limp in their arms, but he forced himself to push everything aside. George and Sapnap had been friends with Dream for far longer and were uncontrollably upset, and at the bottom of a ravine  _ someone  _ had to stay alert otherwise they’d all be dead. But it didn’t stop him from walking towards his friends, bending down to pick up the shattered mask. His fingers ran carefully over the sharp edge, and he almost felt as if he should find a way to put the mask back together and cover their friend’s face once more - if Dream had wanted to keep it hidden while he was alive, surely it would only have been fair to give him that same respect in death? Bad shifted at the thought, trying not to think about the implications of it all. 

Dream was  _ dead _ .

“We should take his body.” Bad said, breaking the silence between the three of them. Sapnap and George, to their credit, both looked up at him: Sapnap still crying and George still red-cheeked and blurry eyed. “We need to get out of the ravine before nightfall, we can head back to the village and reconvene there.”

If either of the younger men thought anything of Bad’s outward lack of emotion, neither of them spoke about it, the two reluctantly getting to their feet - laying Dream down on the ground as gently as they could. Now that his body was in a somewhat more natural position it was difficult to believe that he’d fallen - he could have quite easily just been sleeping. That thought alone was enough for George to feel his eyes start to water again and Bad crossed to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I-I’m okay.” He croaked, his voice quiet to keep himself from completely losing control of his emotions. It was for that reason George didn't dare return the hug.

“It’s okay.” Bad said, squeezing him tightly for a moment. As he held George he looked to Sapnap, who managed to nod a little in response. “Sapnap and I can carry Dream’s body back up, just focus on getting yourself out.” He told him comfortingly. After a second he felt George’s head bob up and down on his shoulder and took that as a signal that he was ready to go. Pulling away felt wrong now, but they could all seek comfort in each other when they were out and safe. George began to walk towards the tunnel that Sapnap and Bad had carved out on their way down, limping slowly as he went. Bad pressed a hand to his shoulder before he could get too far and handed him his sword. George blinked at him, tears beginning to fall again as he stared at him blankly.

“You’re limping.” Bad said matter-of-factly. “Take some weight off your ankles, we’ll check them out when we get back to the village.”

George nodded silently, understanding now and holding the hilt of the sword in his hand as he used it to help him limp along. Behind him he could sense a silent conversation, followed by a soft count and two grunts. Dream’s body wasn’t heavy, but neither Bad nor Sapnap felt up to full strength at the moment - the emotional weight on their shoulders making it difficult to carry him.

The trip back to the surface was slow, George leading the pack with his bad ankles and Sapnap and Bad needing to stop regularly. Dream might have been gone, but he was still their friend, and they didn’t want to drop his body as they struggled over uneven ground. By the time they emerged the sun was beginning to set, and the three of them had the same silent thought: at the same time last night they had been running and laughing, chasing each other through the forest with Dream still standing, still alive, still breathing. Bad and Sapnap placed Dream’s body in the grass and both sat down to catch their breath, watching the sky turn from blue to orange, orange to pink, pink to red, and red finally into purples, blues, and blacks. Despite the knowledge that threats would now lurk around every corner none of them could find it in themselves to care. The field they were in was open, nothing would be able to sneak up on them, and the crowded village was the last place any of them wanted to be. 

“I miss it.”

George eventually spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet as he tugged at the straps of his rucksack. 

“Miss what?” Bad asked. 

“The sky.”

His answer caused Sapnap and Bad to turn their heads to face him, looking up at him and encouraging him to continue to explain what he meant - though neither of them had the energy to voice that curiosity. It took a beat for George to understand, but when he did he almost felt lost for words.

“...I’m colourblind.” He admitted sheepishly, looking at the ground as if he was  _ ashamed _ . He was ashamed, that’s why he’d never mentioned it before, but saying it now - when Dream was dead - it felt as if it shouldn’t even matter. “My goggles corrected it but… They shattered. I miss seeing the sunset.” 

The only sound between them was the wind, the breeze blowing hair across all of their faces. George could only think of Dream putting the hood of his jacket over his head and wrapping a warm arm around his shoulders, holding him close in a way that would make his cheeks flare up and fight away the cold. He turned his back on his friends, not wanting them to watch as he threatened to break once more.

“George…” Bad began slowly, but before he could say anything else George cut him off.

“It’s fine.” He said, a laugh forcing its way past his lips and he shook his head, closing his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” Bad said, searching for the right thing to say. “We’ve all lost Dream, but Sapnap and I can still see. We’ll find something to correct your vision, I promise.”

Silence fell between the group again, a silence that Dream would have filled with his laughter, or a stupid question, or a playful comment towards George. But none of that would ever happen again.

“I saw a church in the village.” Sapnap suggested after a few minutes. “I’m sure they’d let us… Bury him.”

George and Bad considered the option of having a funeral for Dream here. While it seemed almost  _ wrong  _ to bury him so far from his home it would be impossible to get him back home. They had walked for miles, crossed an ocean, there was no way they would be able to carry him that long or that far. He would decompose before they even reached the next continent, and there would be no dignity in that.

“Okay.” Bad replied, George unable to say anything and simply nodding in agreement. 

Without a slope to navigate, Sapnap silently volunteered to carry Dream’s body alone, one arm slipping behind his knees and the other holding his head, carrying him carefully as the three began a slow walk back to the village. It was as if even the monsters could sense their loss - nothing so much as crossed their path and the monsters they  _ did  _ see were far enough away for them to avoid. 

The village was quieter than it had been earlier in the day, and the three men were thankful for that. Those that were out in the street recognised the look on their broken faces, and Dream’s limp body in Sapnap’s arms made people keep their distance. They lowered their heads in respect as they passed - understanding the pain the three of them must have been going through even if they didn’t know the man that they had lost. But once the trio were out of earshot, whispers began. A death was unusual, a death of a man so  _ young _ was unheard of,  _ something  _ was wrong. Neither Bad, Sapnap or George paid any attention to the people whose eyes bore into the back of their heads, focusing on walking towards the church in the hopes that someone would be there to help them give Dream the goodbye that he deserved. 

The stone building was unlocked, the soft light of candles illuminating the large room. The high ceiling caused their footsteps to echo as the heavy oak door closed behind them and they were left in the cold alone. 

“Hello?” George said quietly, his voice carrying over the rows of pews before him and up to the altar. “Is… There anyone here?”

While they weren’t answered immediately, the sound of footsteps in the darkness was enough for the three of them to wait for a reply. A man in dark robes emerged from the shadows, candlelight flickering over his face, and he stood at the opposite end of the room with his hands clasped together. Even from this distance it was clear to see the look of hurt on his face - a sadness shared with them all.

“Our friend…” George began, taking in a shaky breath as he tried to continue speaking. He felt his legs buckle at his knees and Bad was quick to reach out, arms slipping beneath his to catch him before he fell. Recognising the pain George was in, he took it upon himself to finish the sentence.

“Died. Our friend died today. We were hoping that someone would help us give him a funeral.”

The three of them stood still as the man from across the church approached them slowly - his footsteps were muffled by a deep red rug that ran between the pews. As he grew closer his features became much clearer - the slightly elongated nose with small spectacles rested on the bridge, his hair dark and curled and the chain of a necklace dipping beneath his robes. 

“Of course.” He said, looking to Sapnap to seek permission before he brought his hand to Dream’s cheek and looked at the man in his arms closely, brows furrowing a little in confusion before he continued to speak. “You must understand, funerals are not commonplace. If you wish his body can remain here for the night - he will be treated with care and respect - and we can organise a time tomorrow evening to hold a service.”

“That sounds…  _ Good _ .” Sapnap said, his voice straining as the last word left his mouth. It didn’t sound good, of  _ course  _ it didn’t sound good, but what word was there to describe arranging a funeral for your closest friend? The cleric nodded, moving his hand from Dream’s cheek to gesture to his right, encouraging Sapnap to walk before following him towards the altar. The cleric moved a few small trinkets to make space to rest Dream’s body carefully, Sapnap bending his legs a little as he placed him down.

“We’ll be staying in the village, we’ll come back in the morning.” Bad said, he and George approaching to look at Dream one last time before they left. “Anything you need, whatever this costs, we’ll pay. He’s our friend, he deserves respect.”

“Keep yourselves safe.” The cleric said gently. “I will watch over him, he will be safe while you are gone, I give you my word.”

Sapnap’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, nodding as he did so. “Thank you.” He replied. 

George didn’t say anything, rolling his shoulders back to step out of Bad’s grip and take a step closer to Dream. He placed his hand on Dream’s, taking in a shaky breath and whispering a prayer - begging for him to sit up and say this was all an elaborate prank. George would forgive him in a heartbeat if that meant he would come back. He squeezed the cold fingers tightly, wanting to feel one last time what Dream’s hands felt like. Dirt from the ravine was still buried under his nails and George couldn’t help the surge of guilt that grew in him.

_ He had done this _ . 

“Come on George.” Bad said, his voice as strong as he could force it to be. It was enough to bring George back into the moment, but he couldn’t look away from Dream. He wanted to memorize every detail of his face, every strand of hair and every bump of stubble.  _ He had done this _ . “We need to look at your ankles, and your hands are covered in cuts. We need to take care of you.” 

_ Dream would want us to take care of you _ .

George struggled to step away, it took Sapnap’s hand on his shoulder to convince him to move backwards, and the cleric offered them a quiet wave, making no move to rush the three of them as they left. 

# # #

The pub felt empty without Dream. 

They sat in the same booth as the night before: George staring at the plush seats and trying to remember what purple looked like; Sapnap reserving beds for the three of them for the night; Bad gently tending to the cuts on George’s hand with a small first aid kit that had been kept behind the bar. George hadn’t given any thought to himself in the last half day, he didn’t care if the wounds were dirty or infected, but Bad seemed to appreciate having something to do to take his mind off the fact that Dream wasn’t sitting with them blowing through his straw or reminiscing about something stupid that Sapnap had done when they were younger. One of the cuts was deep - much deeper than George had realised - and Bad was trying his hardest to stitch it closed with the few resources he had.

When Sapnap joined them he brought alcohol - the strongest ale he could find for each of them. It wasn’t much, and none of them ever really drank for the soul purpose of getting  _ drunk _ , or  _ forgetting _ , but right now it felt like the only solution. Despite that, they all seemed to cradle their glasses without actually drinking anything, all feeling too sick and too empty to stomach it. The conversation that had flowed so easily the night before had evaporated, and the mood in the pub had shifted drastically. The whispers that had been left in their wake from earlier had clearly made their way back to the customers and people had been watching them, talking quietly and trying to figure out what had happened.

Time passed slowly, minutes blending into each other as they nursed their drinks slowly. The only sound that came from the booth was the occasional sob that Sapnap or George hadn’t managed to stifle, or the drum of fingernails against the hard table as the men drifted in and out of thought. 

After a little over half an hour they were approached by a man in exotic dress - long, blue robes with stars embroidered in golden thread, and sparkling red fabric decorating the hem of his outfit. None of them looked up to acknowledge his arrival until he coughed - clearing his throat to bring attention to himself. Bad and Sapnap glanced up at him, but George still stared into the distance as if he wasn’t truly present.

“Hello.” He greeted, and when he received no audible reply from the three of them he simply took that as an invitation to continue. “I wish to offer my condolences. Losing a friend is  _ never  _ easy.” 

“Yeah.” Sapnap said, a breath passing his lips almost disguised as a chuckle. “We kinda figured that out.”

“It is a rare pain.” He said, beginning to speak before Sapnap had finished - as if he didn’t particularly care for what they had to say. He seemed odd, his voice accented in a way that none of them had heard before and his mannerisms not something they were used to. But there was far too much exhaustion between them to stop him in his tracks, so they let him continue.

“One that, once upon a time, could be reversed.”

“Reversed?” George asked, suddenly sitting upright. It was enough to pull him from his mournful stupor, his eyes wide and filled with a spark of hope. “What do you mean,  _ reversed? _ ”

The man smiled to himself, bringing a wrinkly hand to his face and tapping the tip of his nose twice with a finger. George wasn’t thinking straight - this could easily be a man looking to take money from whoever he could find, and they were simply easy targets - but he pulled a pouch from his pocket and undid the knot holding it together, letting the emeralds inside pour out onto the table.

“Name your price.” George said, his voice much stronger and more confident than it had been during the rest of the day. “Whatever it takes, whatever you want from me I’ll give it to you just please,  _ let me have my friend back _ .”

Sapnap and Bad watched him as he spoke. George’s impassioned pleas were enough to give them hope that maybe,  _ just maybe _ , they  _ could  _ fix this.

“Very well.” The man said, collecting half the emeralds that lay out on the table. In his right hand he took one, pinching it between his middle finger and thumb, and held it up towards the glowstone lamp on the ceiling. After humming to himself for a brief moment, content with his assessment that the jewels were real, he looked back to George with a smile on his face. “A Ghast tear and Dragon’s Breath, combined, would be enough to bring your friend back.” He said. “Legend has it that the bravest of warriors could cheat death for centuries with enough of that potion - although scholars believe that no such concoction would be enough alone. Something more powerful and much harder to obtain must have been used to aid the recovery of whomever chose to take such steps to prolong their life.”

“But it’s real, right?” George said breathlessly, his shoulders preemptively sagging at the thought that this could all just be a hoax.

“Oh, it’s very real.” The man said with a grin. It wasn’t necessarily an untrustworthy smile, more the smile of a man who knew  _ just  _ how dangerous such a task would be. Ghast tears and Dragon’s breath - the Nether and the End. Those were two places none of the men at the table wanted to go without a guarantee that they would respawn in the event of their death.

“Once again, my condolences.” He said, pocketing the emeralds he’d taken from George and walking away.

George leaned back in his seat, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly as he looked across at Sapnap and Bad. Both were silent, looking at him expectantly.

“What?” He asked them, his tone a little snappier than it was meant to come out as. Neither of them questioned it, they understood just how exhausting their day had been and how frayed tempers already were.

“Are we going to do this?” Bad asked, and Sapnap nodded, his hand tightening around the base of his glass.

“Yeah. For Dream.” He said. “If it was one of you I’d do it too, and you’d do it for me.”

“I’m in.” George said. “I’d have done it alone if you weren’t up for it.”

“Alright.” Bad agreed. He wasn’t  _ reluctant _ , but his optimism was much more guarded. He knew the dangers that lay ahead of them, the odds of succeeding would be slim, and there was no guarantee they would all make it out alive.

“For Dream.”

The three men clinked their glasses together, their lips daring to curve into the smallest of smiles as they realised that there was hope. They had a chance. They drank quickly, leaving a small tip on the table for the staff again before making their way back to the bunkhouse they had stayed in the night before. George continued to use Bad’s sword to help him walk, although having spent the evening resting his legs his ankles were already feeling much stronger. He was relieved that he hadn’t done any lasting damage, knowing full well he’d have ignored his own hurt and made any damage worse just to get Dream back sooner.

At the bunkhouse their routine was the same - to change clothes, say their goodnights, and clamber into bed, but even with the tiniest spark of hope now lighting the darkness George found himself utterly unable to sleep. His mind couldn’t stop picturing Dream at the bottom of that ravine, moments after he’d been begging George to spare him. It was George that had done this, George that had killed him, and he felt as if he deserved some kind of punishment for it. Maybe if they brought Dream back he would blame him in the way that he assumed both Sapnap and Bad were mentally blaming him, maybe Dream would hate him and renounce their friendship, maybe George would be left alone to start over again.

George would never be able to hear him laugh again, never feel the beat of his heart as they hugged for just long enough for his stomach to twist and churn as butterflies mocked the feelings he tried to repress. But thinking like that was selfish - Dream deserved to live whether he wanted George to be a part of his life or not. As soon as they brought him back George could leave, the three of them could be happy, and George could face the prospect of eternity alone. For now what mattered was finding a way to bring Dream home, no matter the cost.

He found himself staring at the ceiling until rays of sunlight began to pour through the window as morning broke. George was unable to bring himself to look outside - knowing that the view today would be very different from the day before. Dream had gone, and he’d taken George’s ability to see the world with him. It almost felt ironic, and if he wasn’t so heartbroken then maybe he’d had laughed. Hours of stewing in his guilt and sadness had been enough to crush the optimism he’d briefly felt the night before, but now George’s world felt truly empty without Dream. 

He didn’t think it would ever be full again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dare you to listen to "time" by hans zimmer on repeat while reading this


	3. A Dream & A Prophecy

“Bad?”

“Dream?”

Bad looked at the scene in front of him, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of what was going on around him. The world was oddly familiar, and yet he’d never been in a place like this before. Everything seemed just a little bit stranger - the colours of the sky a slightly different hue and the shadows on the ground a little bit morphed. Part of his mind that was still somewhat conscious thought for a moment, before bringing a hand to his face and waving it around.

“I didn’t know you could lucid dream.” The younger man replied and Bad looked back to him, swallowing.

“Neither did I.”

The conversation came to a quick close. This was a dream, Bad was aware it was a dream and he didn’t want it to end. Here he could see his friend, hear him again, it was almost like…

“I did, though.” Dream replied, knowing exactly what Bad was thinking. He was, after all, nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

“I don’t want you to be gone.” Bad said quietly, his dream-self taking in a deep breath and letting his shoulders fall. “We shouldn’t have done this. Even if you weren’t going to die forever, it would still have  _ hurt _ .”

“But it’s fun, it’s a challenge.” Dream told him, a smile on his face. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to find a way to blame yourself, it was just an accident. No one could have stopped it.”

Dream was saying exactly what he needed to hear. Still, Bad was silent, thinking of something to say - but no words that really fit the situation came to mind. Of course this wasn’t really his friend and perhaps that made it a little more difficult, but seeing him standing there in his dreams was enough to say anything he wanted to him, right? It could act as some form of closure, a  _ goodbye _ that he was seemingly denying his waking self. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say in this strange limbo he found himself in, but Dream beat him to it.

“You’re allowed to mourn.” He said, chuckling softly. “I  _ expect  _ you to mourn me, how dare you think you can get away without crying even a little bit.” Dream reached out to punch his shoulder lightly to emphasise that his words were in jest, but while Bad could see the touch he couldn’t feel it, and he found himself yearning to hold his friend just one more time.

“But, Sap and George… Someone has to take care of them.”

“I know they’re dumb, but even they can manage to look after themselves for a few days.  _ You  _ are important too, you always seem to forget that.”

“I have to be there for them.” He replied, his voice firm. “Once we have you back, I’ll take some time to process everything that’s happened, but until then  _ someone  _ has to stay sane.”

“Nothing says sane like talking to a dead man in your sleep.” Dream teased playfully, but the hurt in Bad’s eyes made it apparent that it had been the wrong thing to do. His expression softened and he gave a small sigh. “You’re the kindest person I know, Bad. If you do one thing for me, I want it to be to take care of yourself. Otherwise you’re going to end up here, with me.”

“Wait… Dream? What does that mean, where are you, how am I--?”

# # # 

Bad sat upright, his breathing was a little quicker than usual and a thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead. It hadn’t been a nightmare, it wasn’t enough to frighten him, but he had certainly been jolted by the presence of his friend - and his parting words were enough to send him into a world of questions. What did Dream mean, he would end up with him?

Deciding he’d rather think this over on a walk, he swung his legs off his bed, stood up and grabbed his clothes to change when he heard a squeak come from above.

“George?” He whispered, careful not to rouse the other men in the room if he had simply misheard. But the younger man sat up and looked down at Bad. He was exhausted, without a doubt, and any thought of Dream telling Bad to take care of himself was gone the moment he saw the look on George’s face. “You look awful. Have you slept?”

George simply shook his head, crawling to the ladder at the end of his bunk and climbing down, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. The pain in his ankles was gone now, at least he could be thankful for that.

“You’re going on a walk?” He stated, although it was phrased like a question. George didn’t want to be alone in the bunkhouse any longer, the night had already been long enough as it was.

“You can come with me, if you want.” Bad offered him a gentle smile, easily seeing through his paper-thin disguise and George nodded. The two men changed back to back, slipping boots onto their feet and pulling on the warmest jackets they had to fight against the morning chill, leaving a short note to Sapnap before taking off.

They walked through the quiet streets of the village silently, their footsteps mingling with that of the few other people out and about - people heading to work, opening up shops and cafes for the day. A thin layer of mist clung to their feet as the sun shone down from the sky. Bad wanted to give George the space he needed to mourn, but he didn’t want him to become utterly bogged down in his hurt and guilt, especially given the enormity of the quest they would be embarking on in mere hours, so he tried his best to change the subject.

“We could see if anyone has glasses that will help with your sight?” He suggested with a smile. “When we get Dream back he can make you a new pair of goggles but until then there must be something we can do. The sunrise is beautiful, you should be able to see it.” He said, gesturing in front of them. At the Eastern edge of the village the sun could be seen rising above the horizon, shining over the dark forest. The leaves on the trees were quickly turning red and gold, crisping up as the days passed, and Bad couldn’t imagine being unable to see the colours. 

“I’m fine.” He said with a shrug, his voice far too emotionless to be the truth. But Bad knew better than to push him, so he simply wrapped an arm around George’s shoulders and pulled him close. George didn’t bother to keep up appearances, simply leaning closer in and walking with him silently. The touch was enough to keep him from slipping away entirely into the depths of his mind, and for that he was eternally thankful. Bad was a good friend - and George thought that a murderer like him didn’t deserve kindness like that.

# # #

The pair arrived back at the bunkhouse as Sapnap was getting dressed and the three of them quickly prepared for the day, stripping the bed sheets once more and pulling their light rucksacks over their shoulders. Now that they weren’t in a competition they allowed themselves to use their emeralds frivolously, buying as much food and drink as they could to make sure they could make it for a few days before having to find their own food or another village. They didn’t speak much as they prepared, simply filling their bags until they were satisfied that they were ready to go. There was just one more thing left to do.

They stood at the entrance to the church for several minutes, working up the confidence to go inside. Behind those doors lay Dream’s body and while none of them could have forgotten the horror’s of the day before, it somehow seemed like a distant memory, a bad dream, something they could almost pretend didn’t happen if they tried hard enough. Going back inside made it real all over again.

Bad took the first step, George reaching out silently for Sapnap’s hand as the three entered. Sapnap would’ve usually made some kind of remark to tease George but for now all he could think of was the desire to remind him that he was okay, that they were all in this together, and that they would bring Dream back. So he took the hand offered to him and held it tightly, twining their fingers together.

“Good morning.” Bad said, his voice raised just a little above normal - the echo reverberating around the room meant it could carry with little effort. It took a moment for the cleric to appear, coming again from the shadows he had been hidden in the day before. He wore long purple robes over his gown, a gold trim running around the hem that trailed a little behind him as he approached the three with a comforting look on his face.

“Good morning.” He replied. “I hope the three of you slept well, shall we discuss the arrangements for your friend?”

Bad looked over his shoulder to George and Sapnap.  _ They were doing this _ . Sapnap nodded to him, and Bad cleared his throat before he replied. “We were wondering if there would be a way to postpone.” He said. “We’ve heard… We’ve heard of a potion to bring someone back from the dead. We owe it to Dream to try.” 

The cleric paused, his gaze casting over Bad’s shoulder and to the stained glass windows behind the three men. At that moment, as if it had been perfectly choreographed, the clouds parted and a ray of sun streamed through, the colours of the glass catching the three men perfectly where they stood. He had to force himself to hold in a chuckle as he looked at the image on the glass and back to the men in front of him, and if ever he’d doubted any kind of prophecy or heavenly sign he could see nothing but truth before him.

“Of course.” He said. “We can keep the boy’s body safe for you. In return for a small favour.”

“Anything.” George said quickly, taking a small step forward. Sapnap didn’t loosen the hold on his hand and that was all that stopped him from running forward and practically  _ begging _ the cleric to answer. “We’ll do anything.”

“Protection.” He answered, shifting a little on his feet. “In the case of a raid, there have been rumours that Pillagers are planning to attack our village in the future. If you are here, we would request your protection. Since you plan on journeying to the Nether and the End for these ingredients I am sure you’ll be well equipped to do so?”

Bad opened his mouth to ask how the man knew about the potion, but George was already speaking before he had the chance.

“Of course, we’ll keep you all safe, it’s the least we can do for you.”

“In that case I wish you all the very best of luck, I offer you my blessings. Travel safely, Lost One.”

The cleric turned his back to them and walked away, and the three men shared a strange look, silently questioning what exactly the cleric had meant when he had called George the Lost One. But as they were left alone the thought evaporated, replaced with a newfound determination. 

It was time to leave, time to find a way to bring Dream home, and the three of them turned to leave the church together. 

Before making any real progress, before even getting close to the Nether or the End, they would need to make armour and shields. If something had truly happened to revoke their ability to respawn - rather than just to affect Dream - then they couldn’t venture in empty handed. Now facing a strange new reality than that which they had initially set out to experience, the conversation as they walked was filled with cautious optimism. They discussed the steps they needed to take as if they were concrete, as if  _ getting  _ to both the Nether and the End without dying was a given. They needed glass bottles for the Dragon’s Breath, they’d need plenty of water and food for their journey into the End and would need enough stone to craft makeshift defenses from anything that tried to attack them as they crossed the three realms.

The conversation helped to pass the time, and before long they had journeyed through the village, the dark forest they had entered was now beginning to thin out, and the ground beneath their feet was fading from a rich green into a much paler colour as the ground around them began to steepen in all directions. Bad had suggested, and the others had agreed, that the mountains would be the best place to look for resources. They would find plenty of exposed iron and coal, and being out in the open would give them a good idea of how much time had passed and when night was approaching - when danger would become all the more real. 

The mountains themselves were steep, and progress was slow. George was utterly exhausted (even though he wouldn’t admit it) and, had it not been for Sapnap and Bad keeping a close eye on him, he would have likely fallen more times than they wished to admit. Silently, the two had decided that they’d all sleep before journeying to the Nether. Camping out in the open overnight wasn’t exactly the greatest idea they’d ever had, but the last thing they needed was an over-exhausted George fighting a Blaze. 

As the stone beneath their feet turned to snow, the three stopped to attach crampons to their boots to give them better grip. Bad could see the bealach between two mountains ahead - a wide plateau empty of mobs and devoid of life. It was easy to understand why nothing had chosen to make this altitude their home, but it would work for them for the time being. He stopped a little way from the top, looking back to see George and Sapnap following in the footsteps he’d carved out.

“I can see some iron in the cliff face from here.” He called, mentally figuring out just how much they were going to need to make armour for all three of them, to make tools, and to make shields. It would take time to mine that much but if they were going to spend the night in the overworld to allow George to have a proper rest before entering the Nether they could use that time to smelt and shape the iron. It would work out, it  _ had  _ to work out. He waited where he was, watching the two younger men climb silently towards him, and he offered a helping hand to pull them both up a particularly steep section before continuing to walk behind them. He was glad for the physical activity, it made it an awful lot easier to repress his emotions and helped him to shake the odd feeling that had been following him around since his dream, and before much longer the ground beneath their feet began to level out.

The trio took time to have a break, allowing themselves to eat a little to give them the energy to work for the afternoon, and they took in the view from where they sat. It was astonishing just how far they could see - the village they had started the day in now nothing more than the tiniest of dots on the horizon. In the distance they could see the ocean they had arrived from, although the sky was hazy. Another storm was moving in. The last place they’d want to be when that hit was exposed on top of a mountain, and so Bad was quick to set out roles for the afternoon.

He and George had initially agreed to gather resources together, leaving Sapnap to build a makeshift shelter and a plethora of furnaces to allow them to smelt their bounty as quickly as possible, but when George had pointed out that the iron Bad had seen earlier looked more like gold to him he was quickly switched with Sapnap. George felt guilty, but he knew his friends weren’t doing anything he wouldn’t. They wanted to get Dream back as quickly as possible, and if his color blindness meant that he would make their search for iron take longer then he could understand clearly why they didn’t want him to be helping. Sapnap and Bad emptied their backpacks of food and gave it to George, taking their pickaxes and swords as they walked to begin their work at the foot of the cliff, and George spent another minute sitting. The chill of the mountain air was starting to get to him but it was enough to keep him awake - something he was incredibly grateful for in his current state - and once he had packed his bag tightly he got to work. There was a sheltered area not too far from where they had sat to eat their lunch, an overhang that seemed to have offered a little protection from the snowfall, and George began to chip away stone from there to make a little cave. It wasn’t particularly big, just enough for him to stand upright in (which meant that Sapnap would have to duck  _ just  _ a little), and deep enough for the three of them to all lay down in without the wind chill plummeting temperatures even further. They could start a little fire, enough to keep the worst of any storm at bay, and they would survive the night.

The stone that George removed then became a tool for construction, starting to create makeshift furnaces to smelt the iron that Sapnap and Bad brought back to him. They’d brought their first rucksacks full of ore back for George to start working with by the time he was adding coals to the fire, and before long the metal was beginning to melt. Satisfied with his work, George took a step back from the overwhelming heat and looked around him. The day was drawing to a close, the sun starting to descend quickly towards the horizon, and George knew that Sapnap and Bad were going to have to continue mining in the dark to have enough iron for the three of them to leave in the morning. George shrugged his rucksack off his shoulders, pushing the supplies deep into the man made cave, before picking up his sword and beginning to walk to his friends.

“Keep going.” He called to them, offering them a wave and a smile. “I’ll keep an eye out for the two of you, I’ll shout if you’re in danger.”

Bad and Sapnap had both turned to look at him as he had called to them, each giving a thumbs up before returning to their work. The sun set to rhythmic chips of pickaxes on ore and the occasional grunt, sniffle, or heavy breath from the two working behind him. It was easy enough for George to keep guard at first, especially while the sun was still up, everything was still hidden in the shadows and there was nothing that threatened them or their resources.

It didn’t last particularly long. 

The first monsters to appear on the horizon were spiders, and George could hear their legs scuttling across snow in the distance. George hated spiders - they were absolutely huge creatures, as wide as a person was tall - and he acted quickly to make sure they weren’t overwhelmed by a nest. As they approached one-by-one it was easy enough to take them, grunting as he swung his arm and chopped off their legs, corpses and bloody dismembered bodies staining the snow beneath their feet. After hunting for years George was desensitized to the sight, but he remembered just how he had felt the first time he had killed a creature.

_ Us or them _ , his father had reminded him as George had stood clinging to his sword, shaking from fear and holding back his tears as best he could. Now, as stone sliced the head off a zombie, he found it much easier.

George looked over his shoulder to see Sapnap and Bad still digging away, the two of them still safe and nothing between him and his friends. Good, he was doing his job right. He smiled briefly, starting to turn around when a familiar  _ thwip  _ cut through the air and an arrow stuck in his leg.

He grit his teeth, grunting a low sound of pain to ensure his friends didn’t hear, before searching for the culprit. It was difficult to see the skeleton, the dark blanket of the night sky thick and the snow acting as perfect camouflage, but as a second arrow flew past his head he was able to figure out where it had come from. This time he caught sight of the skeleton as it drew back it’s bow and George ducked to avoid the arrow hitting him squarely in the head, taking a moment to pull the projectile from his leg and cast it aside he began to creep slowly towards the creature, ready for his own attack.

Drawing his sword back he hit the skeleton quickly. From close range it had no chance of missing him - especially when he didn’t have a shield - and he felt an arrow lodge itself in his chest. It wasn’t too deep,  _ thankfully _ , but it was enough to throw him off balance for a moment. As the skeleton began to load another arrow he heard a cry from behind him - Sapnap and Bad shouting his name. He turned his head to look at them - both running at him with their swords drawn - and then he saw  _ what  _ they were yelling about.

“Shit--” He said, ignoring the pain in his chest and knee and ducking out of the way as the skeleton shot, the arrow missing him and instead hitting the creeper that had snuck up behind him. With the two monsters now engaged in combat he managed to stumble away, pulling the arrow from his chest with a painful gasp. Even if it hadn’t hit anything important, it still hurt like hell, and Sapnap and Bad reached him just in time to catch him as he stumbled.

“He’s exhausted, Bad.” Sapnap said, the two of them speaking as if he wasn’t really there. In a way, he wasn’t, and Sapnap was completely right. George hadn’t slept since the day before, and in that time he’d seen his best friend die and he’d lost most of his sight, and so he let himself place his entire body weight between the two men. 

“We’ll head back to camp, it’s getting too dangerous out here anyway.” Bad decided, moving to rest an arm on George’s waist and help him back to his feet, the two guiding him back towards the small beacon of light coming from the rocks. “George, you need to be more careful.” Bad said gently, addressing the younger man with as much care as he could muster up. “You need to rest tonight, Sapnap and I can make everything we need and tomorrow we can head to the Nether.”

George muttered something in agreement, his words too tired and slurred to be anything meaningful, and Sapnap simply rolled his eyes. They stopped walking and he picked George up, holding him close to his chest and leaving Bad free to defend them if they needed it. But thankfully the short walk was safe - the elements up here enough to deter all but the most foolhardy of monsters - and by the time they arrived back at their shelter for the evening George was fast asleep in Sapnap’s arms. The younger man chuckled a little, carrying him into the cave and placing him on the ground - sliding his rucksack underneath his head to act as a pillow - before he returned to Bad’s side.

The older man was putting the rest of the iron they’d gathered into the furnace, frowning as Sapnap approached.

“That’s not a look I like seeing.” Sapnap said cautiously, sitting himself down a little way from the furnaces and letting heat wash over him and warm his frozen body. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to be a shield down.” He said quietly. “I’d head back out to find more iron but--”

“If you go alone, you’re dead.” Sapnap replied. “And if we go together, George is alone and defenseless. We’ll be a shield down, it’s fine, I’ll be okay without one.” He said, giving Bad a smile. “Don’t worry about it. So long as I’ve got armour I’ll keep my eyes peeled and I’ll be okay.”

“Sapnap, you’re like my brother, I’m not letting you go into the Nether without a shield.” Bad said sternly, and Sapnap shrugged.

“Who said you had a choice?” He asked. Bad didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking of a response, but he found nothing. Sapnap took the extended silence as a victory and smiled. “I’ll be fine, Bad. Come on, come sit here for a few minutes. We can start making some armour when more of the iron is melted.”

“I just don’t like the idea of putting you in harm's way.” Bad said. He walked past Sapnap initially, quietly taking some of the food from the rucksack beneath George’s head (although he suspected the man was too exhausted to even notice the movement) before going to join his friend. The ground was wet beneath them, the snow having melted thanks to the fire from the furnace, and he passed one of the sandwiches to Sapnap before beginning to eat quietly.

“How’re you doing?” Sapnap asked, taking a bite out of his food ravenously. He hadn’t realised just how hungry he’d been until now, but working for so long had helped him to work up an appetite. 

“I’m fine.” Bad said, staring at his sandwich as he spoke. When he dared to glance at Sapnap he could see the look on his face - the one that said he wouldn’t ask, but he’d listen. “We’re going to get Dream back, everything’s going to be fine. We just have to be careful and take our time, but everything will be back to normal before we know it.”

“You know if you want to cry, George and I aren’t going to judge you.”

“Of course I know that, you muffin.” Bad said, and the use of  _ muffin  _ made Sapnap smile - at least his friend wasn’t completely suppressing his emotions. “I just think that, if we’re bringing Dream back, it’s worth focusing more on that rather than mourning him. If we fail then…”

“We won’t fail, Bad.” Sapnap assured him. “But that doesn’t make it any less heartbreaking that he’s not here now.”

“I suppose one of us needs to keep it together, then.” He said, looking back to his food, and Sapnap took that as a sign to stop pushing. Instead he sighed, looking out into the horizon at the stars. They twinkled brightly in the sky, though clouds were beginning to move in and the moon was almost playing peek-a-boo with them. Feeling the breeze pick up a little, a chill ran down Bad’s spine and Sapnap could see him shivering where he sat. He raised an arm and wrapped it round the older man’s shoulders, pulling him close with a smile.

“Can’t have my brother freezing to death on me.” Sapnap teased, Bad rolling his eyes.

“I’m not going to die.” He sighed, shaking his head and leaning against the younger man. He appreciated the gesture, and after a moment he muttered a quiet  _ thank you _ . The words pulled him back to the dream he’d had the night before, Dream telling him that he’d end up with him if he wasn’t careful… Was  _ that _ what he meant?

As he thought he felt arms picking him up, his body rocking gently before he was placed in the small alcove beside George. If he hadn’t felt so exhausted he would’ve sat back up and insisted on helping, but Sapnap had made the move to put him there and if the man was so sure that he could craft their armour alone then so be it. After all, he  _ had  _ been the one to sleep in the longest that morning. 

It didn’t take long after that for Bad to drift off to sleep properly, his body relaxing as he let himself rest. All thoughts of the day were long since forgotten and when Sapnap joined the two men to sleep, a blanket now placed on top of the three of them, he let out a contented sigh. Sleeping between his friends, Bad felt safe. But he knew when morning came a whole new world would await them, and safe was the last thing any of them would be.

# # #

Sapnap was the first to wake in the morning, and as he sat up and uncurled from his friends they both followed suit. Bad stretched and yawned as he let himself rise and George grumbled about wanting just a few more minutes, before he realised just how much his body ached from spending a night on the rocky ground and he sat up too. Bad rolled up the blanket they had been sleeping under, packing it into his rucksack as George grabbed food for the three of them to feast on silently, everyone’s minds too focused on the dangers of the day ahead too much to make conversation. Once they had eaten and had something to drink they left the safety of their cave to take in the world around them. It was snowing, the worst of the storm from the night before having passed already, and George smiled a little as he saw the several sets of completed armour, the pick axes and swords, buckets, and shields.

“You guys made all this?” He asked, and Bad had to admit he was a little impressed with Sapnap’s handiwork. He’d expected something much more rushed given the circumstances, but everything looked to have been made to a decent enough standard.

“It was Sapnap.” Bad explained, picking up one of the swords and giving it a swing to test, smiling at the feeling of it in his hand. “We should carry it for now, find somewhere to make this portal and try to build it before putting it on. I don’t want to think about trying to get down the side of this mountain in gear like that.” He said, Sapnap and George agreeing. As George went to pick up the armour that looked to match his body type the best he frowned, looking at the rest of their equipment.

“There’s only two shields?” He asked.

“Yup, I’m going without.” Sapnap said, and George opened his mouth to argue but he was silenced before he even had the chance to say anything. “Bad and I had this argument while you were sleeping, you should’ve been awake if you wanted to fight in it too.” He cautioned. George wasn’t best pleased at that, but the look Bad gave him from over Sapnap’s shoulder told him that he wasn’t going to be able to win the battle.

The three of them spread the weight of the food, coal, and stone between their rucksacks, gathering string that had been left on the mountainside from spiders overnight to tie the armour to their backs, hooking their tools to their sides, and starting to walk once more. Finding lava pools during the day was much harder, but there was no real reason to risk travelling at night if they could help it: especially while they ran the risk of dying forever. Once they had descended from the mountain plateau they began their search, walking quietly and slowly through the thin oak forest as they listened for the familiar crackle of lava, or the heat of fire - anything that would help them to locate exactly where they needed to go.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they heard it, the familiar sound of a natural pool of lava close to the surface. They hadn’t bothered to replace their stone shovels with iron, so it took a little time to dig through the layer of dirt, but before long they were cautiously chipping their way through stone until they broke through into a small cave system - hit simultaneously with the bright light and searing heat of lava. After a brief stumble as they became accustomed to the environment around them, the three set about building a portal of obsidian. While George and Bad constructed the frame, Sapnap scouted the caves and placed torches and defenses as best he could to block off any monsters approaching while they were in the Nether - the last thing they wanted to do when they made their escape was run straight into a creeper and find themselves blown backwards into a fiery, painful death.

That was, of course, if they didn’t meet a fiery, painful death in the Nether. And that was a  _ very  _ real possibility. Between Blazes, Ghasts, and oceans of lava, they all knew just how slim of a chance they had of making it out alive.

Perhaps that was the reason the three of them stood at the portal frame quietly, fully suited in their armour, waiting for Bad to light it with the flint and steel. He seemed reluctant to do so, and while they were all desperate to bring Dream back neither George nor Sapnap were pushing him to go any faster.

“I just want to say…” Bad’s voice broke the silence, the older man taking in a deep breath as he looked at the two men through the visor of his helmet. “You two are like family to me, just as much as Dream is. And I’d do this for the both of you too.”

“We know.” George said, speaking for both himself and Sapnap. “We’d do the same. Even if it is bordering on a suicide mission, you’re both worth it.”

“I just want you both to know that if I don’t make it out--”

“Bad-” Sapnap said, but he didn’t manage to silence the older man.

“ _ If I don’t make it out _ , this was a sacrifice worth making. I wouldn’t ask to spend my final moments with anyone else.”

“Well,  _ when  _ we make it out, we won’t tell your boyfriend you said that.” Sapnap joked, and he didn’t have to see behind Bad’s helmet to know that the man was blushing.

“I’m trying to say heartfelt goodbyes, Sapnap! Now is  _ not  _ the time! And he’s  _ not  _ my boyfriend!”

“Bad has a point.” George said, looking to Sapnap pointedly, moving his entire head to make it easier for his friends to know who he was addressing with his eyes a little less visible. “I wouldn’t want to go any other way. Dream is worth it, both of you are worth it. If I get blown to bits by a Ghast I think it makes sense that you both know how much you mean to me. You’re my best friends, my family. You have been for years and I can’t imagine  _ not  _ doing this for any of you.”

“Shut up.” Sapnap said, though his voice wavered a little. He was terrified, trying not to show it, and the goodbyes the other two had said were making the entire situation much more real - it seemed much more final. “We’ll all be fine,  _ nothing  _ will go wrong.” He was quiet for a second, Bad taking in a breath as he leaned down and clicked the flint and steel together several times until it sparked, a flame bursting into life and the portal igniting. 

“But I’m going in before either of you do.” Sapnap finished, struggling to find any other words to properly get his feelings across. He didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t want to jinx himself as he stepped across the portal. So, summoning every bit of courage he had in him, he took a step forward and closed his eyes, battling the surge of nausea as he felt his body being transported from this world to the next.

There was no going back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing the notes for this chapter: huh, this is gonna be a short one  
> me, finishing the chapter: huh, 6093 words
> 
> hope you enjoyed this slight emotional reprieve, things are about to heat up (literally and metaphorically) as the boys head into the nether. depending on how long the chapter ends up being, you're in for a real treat with the next update! >:)


	4. Fire & Lava

Sapnap was the first to emerge from the portal, the whispers and hums echoing in the cavern he found himself standing in. He looked up and took in a deep breath as he marvelled at the world around him, turning to look to his left as Bad and George arrived. The three of them took a few steps away from the portal to save themselves from being pulled back through to the overworld and, after a beat of silence, George spoke.

“How are we supposed to find the Fortress in here?” He asked quietly, sounding doubtful for the first time. They were at the base of two huge cliffs, a ravine running to their right and to the left, the world opening up. The three walked towards the edge together, boots hitting the netherrack beneath their feet, and they swallowed as they looked down. As far as they could see there was an ocean of lava, the heat hitting them and causing them all to take a step back to save from melting in their armour.

“I suppose we’ll have to hope it’s not that way, it’d take us days to get around that.” Bad said, bringing a hand to his forehead and squinting to try and look just a little bit further. While they were equipped with pickaxes that would last them a decent amount of time, the idea of having to trek that far in these conditions wasn’t appealing at all. There was just one thing helpful about the open Nether before them, though.

“I can see Ghasts from here.” Sapnap said, turning to face Bad and George. “We need Ghast Tears, right? Any Ghast we see, we kill. We’ll collect enough in no time.”

“We just need a little.” Bad said. “Just enough to make this potion. You don’t have a shield, Sapnap, George or I will get it and we can radio in to let the others know - we’re not taking any unnecessary risks. I’m not losing either of you.” 

Sapnap looked as if he were about to argue back and, not wanting the kind words before stepping through the portal to be immediately forgotten, George stepped in.

“Sapnap, we can go together.” He said. “Bad if you go in another direction we’ll cover more ground, find the Fortress quicker, and be back in the overworld before we know it.”

Sapnap looked to George, the frown on his face evident even behind his helmet, and George shrugged his shoulders. It was a compromise, and fighting in a place like this wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“Fine.” Bad agreed. “I’ll go that way.” He said, using his sword to point up a hill. “There’s a path up there, I’ll see if I can find it. You two stay out in the open, maybe head down a bit and see if there’s a route around this ocean. Stay in touch,  _ don’t  _ split up, if it takes too long we can head back to the overworld and sleep there for the night. I don’t want to risk anything we don’t have to, understand?”

Bad’s tone was enough to convince the two younger men not to argue with him, and they simply nodded and turned to walk away. Bad stood in place for a few moments longer, listening to the clinking of their armour, the popping of lava, and the humming of the portal, and he swallowed as deeply as he could. The nausea from journeying through the portal combined with the overwhelming heat made it difficult to breathe and he knew that the longer they spent in the Nether the less comfortable they’d become - it was important to get out as quickly as possible. Biting down on his tongue until he found the courage he needed to journey on alone, Bad began to walk towards the hill he’d pointed to before.

Hill had been a generous word for the slope he had been looking at.

It was  _ marginally  _ less steep than the sheer cliff faces of the ravine they’d arrived in, and although the mushrooms growing on the side made it look deceptively habitable, Bad found himself struggling upwards using his pickaxe to help himself grip on the unstable ground beneath his feet.

He didn’t dare look down, his mind inventing a terrifying enough picture for what was beneath him already. But if he had looked down he’d have seen something worse than he could’ve imagined: crumbling stone, cracked quartz, and the hot ocean of lava bubbling several hundred feet below. One wrong step and it would all be over - he’d barely have time to cry out, he  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t have time to tell George or Sapnap and the two would be left blindly wandering the Nether for him to no avail. He tried to push away the thought, focusing himself entirely on  _ not  _ letting that vision come true. 

He grunted, his left hand clinging to a small outcrop of rock while his right pulled his pickaxe out from where it currently gripped the netherrack. He was standing on a precipice, his body as flush against the slope as his armour would allow, and he swung the pick a little above his head to pull himself up. Giving the pick a tug to ensure it was secure he let go of the rock, using both hands to grab the tool and letting his feet do the hard work of ascending the steep incline. As he climbed the ground beneath him disappeared, he could feel the rock grinding beneath the soles of his boots and crumbling away into the lava, but he forced himself to ignore the terrifying cracking noise that seemed to echo in the cavern. If the cliff face gave way and slumped into the lava no amount of panicking would save him.

Bad pulled himself up again, the motion becoming familiar and easier even as his arms began to grow tired, and before long he could see the glowstone peeking over the top of the slope. He was almost there.

He swung with his arm, straining himself to get the pickaxe to land on top of the ledge rather than in the cliff face, and as he did so he felt the ground beneath his feet disappear completely. Bad gasped, his left hand letting go of the cliff face, his entire body now dangling over the lava hundreds of feet beneath him - supported only by a pickaxe that was held with one hand. Bad felt his heart racing and his palms sweating, he only had one shot at this. Closing his eyes he tugged on the pick just a little.

He felt it give.

It was only a brief second, a  _ moment  _ during which he felt the tiniest little stones fall from above him and ping against his armour before continuing to fall, but his heart was immediately in his throat.

_ Was this what Dream had meant, he’d end up with him? _

No, he had to save his friend, and if he died now then he’d be absolutely no use to Dream. Not trusting the pick he decided to go a different route, muttering a quiet goodbye to the world under his breath _ just in case _ before he started to swing himself back and forth. His wrist was aching from holding his body up and it wouldn’t be long before his grip completely vanished. The pickaxe moved as he swung, giving more and more with each motion. He needed as much momentum as possible, but waiting too long would spell certain death.

_ One _ .

Bad felt his body hanging in the air for a second, dangling dangerously over the lava. He could see the way that it moved, spitting angrily like the world was furious with him. The Nether wasn’t a place for Humans, and even adventurer’s would limit their exposure, it was no wonder that the forces of nature that surrounded him wanted their revenge for his mere presence. 

_ Two _ .

He swung back towards the cliff, his chest almost colliding with the rocks. If he’d hit the impact would’ve been enough for him to let go and fall, and that prospect was just as terrifying. He sucked in a breath of hot air, his fingers slipping down the handle of the pick and the tip of the axe twisting in the ground. Enough material had finally been ground up that the tool was now completely loose.

_ Three _ .

Bad used every ounce of strength inside of him to pull himself, summoning everything he had as he surged upwards. As the fingers of his left hand scrambled for purchase on the rocky surface he heard a clink and his right hand was suddenly beneath him. The pickaxe had shifted out of place and Bad had the common sense to let go, watching it fall away from the tips of his fingers and down to the lava beneath him. He counted, five seconds passing before it disappeared into the hot sea, and he forced himself to focus back on his climb. 

With his body now in direct contact with the rock he found himself more in control, his right hand managing to reach up and find something to grab onto, and he pulled with all of his might until his hips were above the ledge, and he used his new position to twist his body round before rolling quickly, further away from the edge.

Staring at the ceiling above him, Bad panted, his sore hands resting on top of his armour and rising and falling with his breathing. He closed his eyes for a moment and just let himself process how close he’d been to death, how easily that could have just been  _ it _ . But if he let himself take too long he’d break, and the dam holding his emotions in place for the last few days would crack. He was quick to get back to his feet and focus on the task at hand once more. Clenching his fists together he looked at the world around him - a flat plateau covered in waterfalls and rivers of lava, Pigmen idly roaming the world with their swords at the ready. For now they meant him no harm and he left his own sword by his side, not wanting for them to feel threatened, before he continued on his quest.

He crossed a cluster of quartz spikes, the jewels towering high above his head and up into the glowstone conglomerations above him - if the Nether wasn’t quite so dangerous then he could almost have found it beautiful, but he was well aware of the terrors that awaited him. Considering how long it had been since he’d left his friends (although given his own ordeal, it could’ve been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in his mind), he took the radio from his side and pressed the call button to contact George and Sapnap - hearing their voices would help to calm him down.

“Bad time!” He heard Sapnap’s voice crackling across in response, followed by the sound of a wail. A moment later he could hear the same pained scream echoing around him and frowned, they must’ve found a Ghast.

“Stay  _ safe _ .” Bad instructed, placing emphasis on the word. “Do  _ not _ die to that thing, or so help me I’ll bring you back and kill you myself Sapnap!”

Bad heard a chuckle in reply and if he could’ve reached through the radio to throttle his friends himself he would have. They were being shot at by a Ghast and  _ laughing _ \- the audacity of the pair of them! He never should have let them wander off together.

Rounding a corner he found himself stopping in his tracks, hearing another distant scream and feeling the slight tremor of an explosion rock the ground beneath his feet. He grit his teeth tightly, not particularly keen on turning back to face the same climb he had before (except this time without any tools to help), and as he muttered angrily to himself about the behaviour of his friends he saw it. Standing before him, stretching out into the distance, were a series of dark bricked corridors, columns plunging deep into the lava below and extending out for what seemed to be miles. The place looked like a maze, but he had  _ found it _ , the Fortress, and  _ that  _ gave him at least a reason to smile.

“Once you’ve killed that thing come to me.” He said, finding a safe spot to take cover until his friends arrived. Before they knew it they would have what they needed and be safely back in the overworld. 

# # #

“George, Bad’s found the Fortress!” Sapnap called, glancing from the little alcove he’d hidden himself in to George. The two of them had found a Ghast that was over land - which meant that when it died its tears would be theirs for the keeping - but it hadn’t particularly wanted to give up its life and naturally, had fought back. To keep themselves from being immediately killed they’d dug into the netherrack and were now standing opposite each other, both looking  _ far  _ too pleased with themselves given the situation they were in.

“Fantastic, that’s definitely something we can do something about now.” George called, the eye-roll evident in his tone even if it wasn’t visible, and the Ghast gave another shrill scream. The noise was deafening this close and despite their helmets helping to block out some of the sound they still found themselves with their hands trying to protect their ears.

“I’ve got an idea.” Sapnap called as the creature fell silent again, the ringing beginning to die down as the echos faded. “But don’t tell Bad about it.”

“What are you going to do? Don’t you dare--”

“Hey, look at me!” Sapnap shouted, jumping out from the alcove and waving his arms around to catch the attention of the Ghast. Without a shield to carry and his sword still at his side he was able to jump around freely, laughing far too hard. The look on George’s face was replaced with shock, cursing after him as he ran out. As Sapnap ran the Ghast turned, and George hated just how well his plan seemed to be working. If this  _ was  _ the plan, anyway - Sapnap hadn’t exactly cared to explain himself.

George jumped out of his hiding spot when the Ghast had completely turned away from him and grabbed his own sword from his side, running directly underneath the creature to where it was most vulnerable (and where it would be unable to see him and attack). He swung his sword over his head, cutting through the stomach of the creature and jumping out of the way quickly as blood began to pour down from above him. It screamed in pain, letting out a breath of fire towards Sapnap who barely had time to jump out of the way before the charge hit the ground and exploded. George cast a quick glance to the man, confirming that he was still standing and conscious, before taking a step back so he wasn’t completely under the creature as he swung the blade again. He let out a cry of his own as he felt adrenaline surge around his system.

The huge beast turned its attention away from Sapnap, deciding that he was no longer a threat, and slowly turned to George. It was weak, but clearly not intending to go down without a fight. The older man knew far too well the damage that it could do and as soon as he realised what was happening he began to run - certain that he wouldn’t be able to escape the line of fire, but knowing that an extra few meters would at least give him time to hide behind his shield and hope for the best.

Jumping over a small rise of netherrack George ducked down, pulling his shield from his back and lifting it over his head as he prepared for a wave of heat and fire, or the shock from an explosion, but it never came.

George waited several long seconds before removing the shield, slowly poking his head out from behind the netherrack and laying eyes on Sapnap who looked incredibly pleased with himself, sword lodged in the Ghast’s head as he searched for its tears.

“Are you insane?!” George asked, getting to his feet with a huff. “That thing could’ve killed you,  _ should’ve  _ killed you! You didn’t have a shield.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Sapnap pointed out, and George was disappointed that he didn’t have a rebuttal. It  _ had  _ worked, and neither of them were dead. That didn’t do anything to abate his concern, however.

“You got hit, take a few minutes to rest.” He said, worry oozing out as he spoke. As Sapnap looked to him George pulled a face. “I don’t want to lug your ass around a Fortress if you’ve got a concussion. Sit down, I’ll find the tears.”

“You just want all the glory.” Sapnap said, though he jumped down from where he stood on the Ghast’s body and sat himself down. In all honesty, it did feel good to sit for a moment and catch his breath after he’d come so close to being devastatingly injured.

“Shut up.” George told him, stepping past the younger man and using his sword to remove the creature’s eye. It wasn’t a pleasant task at all, but he simply focused on the fact that this was necessary to bring Dream back. The Ghast being so big at least made it a little easier, taking a glass bottle from his rucksack and squeezing out several drops of liquid from the creature’s tear ducts.

“Dare you to drink it right now.” Sapnap smirked, and George’s face scrunched up in disgust behind his visor.

“I’ll push you into that lava myself in a minute.”

“Be my guest.” Sapnap teased him, watching George put the stopper into the bottle and tucked it back into his bag before the older man offered him a hand and helped him get back to his feet. 

“Come on, before Bad starts to worry about us.”

“You think he’s ever stopped?”

“Not at all.” George chuckled, Sapnap grabbing his sword from the head of the Ghast as they passed by and began to return the way they’d come.

# # # 

Bad had kept in close contact with Sapnap and George, advising them to find a different way up to the Fortress. He’d had a close enough call with his ascent and so much rock had crumbled away that he doubted it was even scalable at this point. It meant that the two of them took a little longer to make a route to him, but they both arrived somewhat unharmed. At least, George did. Bad’s brows furrowed as he laid eyes on Sapnap.

“You’re singed.” He said simply, Sapnap shrugging with an innocent smile on his face.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It could’ve easily descended into an argument but George had come between them, the three of them staring at the Fortress dead ahead. They had to find a way inside, locate a spawner, gather  _ at least  _ eight blaze rods and try not to get killed in the process. It already sounded difficult, but from their vantage point they could see dozens of Pigmen and Wither Skeletons roaming, the occasional sword sparkling with an ominous glow that could only mean they were more dangerous than the rest.

They could turn back, but the cost would be too great. It didn’t stop Bad and Sapnap from looking at the approach reluctantly as they tried to figure out the easiest way in. George, on the other hand, wasted no time.

“I can see the spawner from here.” He said, jumping down from a small height to enter one of the corridors. “I’ll meet you there, search the Fortress for something good - we could use some nether wart to help craft the potions.” He called, disappearing from sight before either of them could say anything. Bad and Sapnap were both quickly scrambling after him, not wanting George to head on in alone.

“We’re going to talk to him about this impulsiveness when we’re back in the overworld.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bad quipped back quickly, although the comedy was used to try and disguise just how worried he was for his friends. It wasn’t working. With his sword in one hand and shield in the other he entered the Fortress first, Sapnap walking behind him with his own sword out. George had already disappeared further into the labyrinth and the two of them were left looking for any treasure without straying too far from George. If he was in trouble, they wanted to be able to get to him quickly. Then again, if he was in trouble, he’d probably be dead. 

They managed to find two chests before deciding it was time to return to their friend - now carrying diamonds, gold, and pockets full of nether wart. The corridors were dark and it made it both  _ easier  _ and  _ harder  _ to avoid the Wither Skeletons that roamed the place. They couldn’t see their enemies, but it meant that they blended into the shadows much more easily and managed to hide themselves as they slunk around corners and followed the sounds of heavy, raspy breathing and crackling flames until they found what they were looking for.

“George!” Sapnap grinned, seeing the spawner two rooms ahead. Their friend was hiding behind a corner, half a steak in his hand as he ate quickly. More than anything it was a force of habit, even if it wasn’t helping his wounds heal.

“Couple of burns, nothing serious.” He told them casually. Bad frowned again, certain that he was going to end up with permanent scowl lines because of the two of them, but George chipped in before anything could be said on the topic. “I’ve got four rods, we’re halfway there. Have you got anything good?”

“Diamonds, we can make a sword.”

“Or a hoe.” He chuckled, hearing wheezing from behind him as the spawner did its work. As if from nothing, three more Blazes appeared - their bodies a blindingly bright yellow and white hot: the air around them distorting and the world appearing to wobble. 

“Sapnap, can you watch our backs?” Bad asked, the younger man nodding as the pair moved to join George at the entrance to the spawner. “We’ll do this together George, no more burns.” He said with a smile, and George grinned over his own visor.

“Deal.” 

As Sapnap stood with his back to his friends, sword weighed between his hands, he heard the two of them engaging in combat with the Blazes. Grunts and gasps, heavy breaths and the sound of chiming as rods dropped against the brick floor. It wouldn’t be long before they could make their way out of the Nether, and while they hadn’t had too much trouble so far Sapnap didn’t want to stay any longer. The air was hot, everything wanted them dead, and it wasn’t exactly the prettiest place to look at. He chuckled to himself lightly, wondering why  _ that  _ had even been an issue. They were bringing their friend back from the dead, a few ugly landscapes was nothing compared to whatever hell Dream was experiencing right now. If he even was  _ experiencing  _ anything. There was no telling what was happening to him, or if the potion was even going to work, and if he did come back there was no guarantee he would be unchanged.

Sapnap caught himself drifting out of the moment, biting down on his lip hard to use the pain to pull himself out of his thoughts and back into the present - his friends couldn’t afford him losing track of things now. 

Hearing another round of Blazes spawn behind him, with a curse from George and a  _ language!  _ from Bad, Sapnap looked over his shoulder to make sure that they weren’t being overwhelmed. He might not have a shield, but if he needed to he could be  _ some  _ use to his friends.

That was when it happened.

He felt something sharp pierce his hand, gasping in pain as he turned around and was suddenly face-to-face with the last thing he wanted to see. 

Before thinking twice he swung his sword, beheading the Wither Skeleton quickly and scanning the adjoining corridors. Nothing was approaching, he could hear Bad and George fighting behind him, and he moved back a few paces until he felt a wall pressing against his spine. He was shaking, he felt sick, how could he have been so  _ careless _ , how could the hit have been so  _ precise _ ? Without stopping to think he dropped his rucksack to the ground and pulled his chestplate off, hearing it clatter in the distance. His attention was entirely focused on the wound on his hand. It wasn’t deep, but bleeding wasn’t a problem.

“Sapnap?” George’s voice cried from around the corner and Sapnap found himself unable to reply, frozen to the spot. Should he run, stop them from worrying about him? Except that wouldn’t stop them from worrying, it would only put them in more danger as they searched for him. What could they do for him anyway? 

“H-here.” He stammered, his voice shaking as he called back. He could hear more Blazes spawning but footsteps told him that both men were running towards him instead and he leaned back with a laugh, a smile on his face as he stared at the ceiling.

“Sapnap, what’re you doing?! Put your chestplate back on before something gets you!” George told him, moving a few paces forwards to pick up the pieces of iron before he caught sight of it and stopped dead in his tracks. “Sapnap…?”

“Oops.” The younger man said, his voice coming out quiet and afraid, even as he tried to put a brave face on for his friends.

“Oops?!” Bad yelled, his composure disappearing in an instant. “You got hit by a  _ Wither _ , Sapnap! Don’t say  _ oops _ , I can see exactly what’s happened!”

“I’m fine.” Sapnap replied, taking in a sharp breath as he tried to hide the pain he was in and offered the other men a smile. “Please, I’m fine, finish killing the Blazes and get out of here, don’t worry about--”

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ finish that sentence.” Bad said firmly. “We’ll figure this out, I promise, we won’t let you down.”

“It’s spreading.” George said quietly, Sapnap rolled his sleeve all the way up his arm so he had a better idea of the progress the withering was making. His fingertips and hand were now completely black, crumbling away and turning to dust at his feet. It would only be a matter of time before he followed suit. This wasn’t how he expected to die, and while Dream had a body they could bring him back with Sapnap knew that it would be minutes - if not less - before he was completely gone.

“I know I said to shut up earlier when we were all saying goodbye but…  _ Shit _ , that hurts.” He gasped, his legs buckling at the pain. “I love you guys.” He squeaked out, closing his eyes tightly. “Kinda hoped I’d die a bit quicker, this is fucking  _ awful _ .”

“George--” Bad’s voice was too far away for Sapnap to make heads or tails of, the older men discussing something that he couldn’t hear. He let out a sob and another cry of pain, his right hand moving to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose as if that would do  _ anything  _ at all to help him. 

“Sapnap, can you hear me?” 

Bad was close to him now, a hand resting against his cheek convincing him to open his eyes. George had disappeared, and he suddenly regretted spending so much of his life teasing him. They were friends, they were like family, but he wished he’d told George just how  _ brilliant  _ he was before now.

“I’m so sorry Bad.” He croaked, letting his head lean back again. “Please, don’t blame yourselves, and don’t let Dream blame himself either.”

“What do you want, a sword or an axe?”

Sapnap let out a rough chuckle, feeling a pinch at his elbow that told him his entire forearm had disappeared. 

“You’re beheading me? Mercy killing, thanks.” He smiled, taking in a breath. “Sword, please, just don’t miss.”

“We’re not killing you, Sapnap. But I won’t lie, this is going to hurt.”

Sapnap looked back to his friend, seeing Bad holding his sword in his hands and taking careful aim at his left shoulder. “Don’t move.”

Sapnap nodded, swallowing and doing exactly as he was told. He grit his teeth together tightly, feeling his entire body tense up in a way that the back of his mind told him would only make this more painful, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. 

“One,  _ two… _ ” Bad counted slowly, and Sapnap braced for the  _ three _ , but he felt the sharpness of metal cutting through his skin and lodging in the socket of his shoulder. 

Sapnap’s scream rivalled that of a Ghast, the cry that left his lips loud enough to attract attention from Pigmen. His knees buckled beneath him and he found himself kneeling on the ground before Bad, tears falling fast from his eyes as pain jolted through his entire body. The combination of the withering of his arm and the half-cut with a sword was enough to completely blur his mind, and the pain was so extreme that his vision disappeared completely and his body sagged forwards. He lost consciousness for a second, his head on the ground when he was aware of himself and his actions again.

_ “Fuck _ .” He muttered, his voice shaking and quiet. He felt his arm trembling as Bad pulled the blade out, and he could feel his head beginning to dizzy as blood spilled uncontrollably from his wound. “Bad just…  _ Please  _ just end this.”

“No!” Bad yelled, his hands quivering. While Sapnap’s screams had ceased they continued to play over and over again in his head and he felt sick - this was  _ his fault _ . He should’ve given Sapnap a shield, he shouldn’t have failed at cutting his arm off and making the pain worse. Raising the sword once more he felt the cracking of the dam, the flowing of emotions, and he was utterly paralyzed. 

“I can’t  _ fucking  _ do this!” Bad yelled, the curse aggressive as it left his mouth. “I can’t  _ hurt you _ Sapnap, I can’t do this!” He stammered, trying to push the sudden surge of feelings back. Guilt and terror hit him hard and rendered him useless. 

As Sapnap’s vision began to fade again, nausea threatening to overtake him completely, he fought through everything to enact a last ditch and desperate plan. Using his right arm to pull himself to his feet - gripping on to Bad tightly - he locked eyes with one of the Pigmen. It was stupid, it was  _ never  _ going to work, but it didn’t stop him. 

He clenched his fist and swung, punching the creature squarely in the jaw. 

The Pigman squealed at the attack, raising its sword above its head before bringing it down swiftly. Sapnap used the last of his strength to shift himself into position, the Pigman finishing what Bad had been unable to do. The sword sliced through his arm and it dropped to the ground, withering away into dust almost immediately. With the arm gone, the risk of withering was forgotten, but Sapnap was quickly losing blood and descending into shock, and the Pigman before him was preparing for another swing. 

Bad stepped forwards, the noise of the creature attacking enough to pull him out of his daze, and he drew its attention away from Sapnap. 

“George!” The older man called. “Now or never!”

George rounded the corner with a Blaze in tow, luring the creature away from the spawner and closer to his friends. As swords clinked, George brought the Blaze towards Sapnap and tried not to think of how awful his friend looked. He dropped his shield, using his left hand to grab hold of Sapnap by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him close to the beast. The Blaze was hot, and as its tendrils came into contact with the stump of Sapnap’s shoulder he screamed. George felt his body going limp in his grip but held him there a few moments longer, until he was sure the wound was cauterized and the bleeding had stopped. With his right hand he swung, hearing the sound of a Pigman dying behind him and hearing Bad race to help him kill the Blaze. 

They were in trouble now: Sapnap was in shock, fading in and out of consciousness; every Pigman they saw would want them dead; and they still needed two more Blaze rods. Not to mention how far they were from their portal. George and Bad shared a terrified glance as they tried to think of a plan to escape, but the sounds of the monsters around them acted as a constant reminder of how much danger they were in.

“For Dream?” Bad whispered breathlessly, trying to find the words they needed to go on.

  
“Yeah.” George said. “ _ For Dream _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am
> 
> so sorry
> 
> edit: i realise i've forgotten to mention, the minecraft world this is based on is 1.15.2 (my installation is saved as "i do not like 1.16"), so this is the old nether!


	5. An Escape & An Ocean

“How many rods do you have?”

“Six.”

“Okay.” Bad replied, tense as he stood back to back with George, the two of them keeping all paths around them visible. They both held their shields up, George fighting the Blaze that had been used to cauterize Sapnap’s shoulder. “So we need two more?”

“One more if we’re being risky.” George replied, his sword cutting through one of the creatures and a rod dropping to the ground. He grabbed it hastily, reaching over his head to place it into his rucksack before as the spawner came to life once more. This time four Blaze appeared - already hot and angry, spitting fire around the pair. George managed to dodge most of the shots, shielding himself from the others, and he encouraged Bad to walk away from the spawner. 

“We need to go, now.” Bad said. His view down the corridors didn’t contain Blaze, instead an army of Pigmen and Wither Skeletons storming towards them. There must have been dozens of monsters narrowing down on them, pursuing them with the sole intent on ending their lives. “We have to find a way out.”

George glanced down to Sapnap. The man was still limp against the wall, still unconscious, and if it wasn’t for the rise and fall of his chest George would’ve considered the man dead. Even now his breathing was incredibly light and he was terrified that the three of them wouldn’t make it back to the Overworld together. George would sacrifice almost anything to bring Dream back, but Bad and Sapnap weren’t on the list of things he could spare.

“They’re cutting off our path back to the portal.” Bad called, pulling George out of his worries for Sapnap and reminding him of more pressing matters. If they didn’t move  _ now _ , they’d all be dead. 

“How much of the Fortress did you loot?”

“Not much, why?”

“Help me with Sapnap, this corridor is still empty. We can look for obsidian here.”

Making a new portal was risky, there was an almost certain chance that there wasn’t going to be enough material in the Fortress to construct it, but it seemed like a good first option. The journey back to the portal they’d arrived through was dangerous enough without being chased. 

George was the first to move, running to Sapnap’s side and beginning to shake him roughly. Bad was with him in a moment, getting the hint as soon as he felt George move away from him. It only took the pair several seconds to stir Sapnap back into consciousness but it had felt like an eternity. He looked pale, his eyes were glazed over and it was obvious that he had no ability to perceive the situation they were in or the danger that lay before them. At least if he wasn’t panicking it should be easier to maneuver him, right?

“Bad, help him up.” George ordered, his mind racing as he thought on his feet. “No, pass me the diamonds, then help him up.” 

Bad quickly reached into his rucksack, tossing the jewels to George as instructed and George quickly began crafting, with Bad kneeling down to Sapnap’s side and placing a hand gently on the stump of his left shoulder.  _ He’d done this _ , and he felt like a failure for it, but now wasn’t the time to mull over his emotions. 

“Can you stand up?” Bad asked quietly. Sapnap seemed confused, his body covered in a layer of sweat and terrifyingly cold for someone in the Nether. As he started to get to his feet, Bad moved to the right of him, making it easier for Sapnap to get a grip on him. Sapnap was utterly silent as he moved and Bad knew that wasn’t a good sign, but as a dozen angry monsters rounded the corner the thought disappeared from his mind completely. 

“Go!” George yelled, moving to step in front of them - now brandishing a diamond sword. “I’ll catch up with you, start looking for obsidian. If anything happens,  _ hide _ .”

“But George--”

“ **_GO!_ ** ”

Splitting up seemed like the worst idea possible to Bad, but there was no room to argue. Sapnap leaned his head on his shoulder and Bad moved an arm around his waist to keep him supported as they left. Progress was slow,  _ painfully  _ slow, but the few times Bad had tried to break out into a run had Sapnap stumbling and Bad left to support his entire weight. Wearing armour already made their movement clumsier, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry his friend on top of everything else.

The first chest they came to, miraculously, had three chunks of obsidian in. Sapnap was left resting against a wall as Bad picked them up, feeling them weighing down his rucksack substantially. It didn’t matter, he could complain about the weight if they got back to the Overworld.

No, not if,  _ when _ . 

He cast a cursory glance over his shoulder as they prepared to run once more, hoping to see George running along the corridor towards them, but they had no such luck. The only hope Bad had that his friend was still alive was the fact that he could hear fighting in the distance. 

“Bad…”

“Not now, Sapnap.” Bad snapped quickly. “Save your energy.” He added, just a little softer, before wrapping his arm around him and beginning to move again.

“Y’should leave me.” He muttered, his words slurred and weak. Bad considered arguing but a reply would surely only convince Sapnap to keep talking, to keep focusing his energy on that rather than their escape. 

“We’re nearly there, c’mon, just a few more chunks of obsidian and we can build our way out of here.”

It wouldn’t be a very good portal, or a particularly stable one, but it would be enough. Turning another corner, Bad could hear the distant sound of wheezing. Running into a stray Blaze wasn’t exactly part of the plan, and it certainly wasn’t going to make their escape any easier. Bad slowed the two of them down considerably, setting a pace that allowed them to look more carefully around corners before continuing on. The sounds of fighting had now faded and that made hearing things nearby substantially easier. It gave Bad time to rest Sapnap back against the wall again and draw his sword and shield before they came face to face with the Blaze. The fact that there was only one made the fight a lot easier and quicker, and while it quickly shot its fiery breath towards him, a few strikes with his sword and a loud cry to release some of his pent up emotion was enough to overcome the beast. Its rods were mangled though, and there was no time to try and retrieve the dust. They simply had to keep going.

Bad returned to Sapnap’s side, frowning at how ill of a turn the man seemed to have taken. He was horrified at the thought of losing his friend. Fighting back his emotions he began to search again, cursing as the next chest they stumbled upon only contained horse armour and nether wart.  _ Useless _ . The next was a blessing - five pieces of obsidian. His rucksack was now close to full but it was almost enough.  _ They were so close!  _ Surely after all the bad luck they’d had, it was time for something to go their way?

It was. 

The final chest they searched contained three more obsidian, more than enough to make the portal, and Bad was quick to get to work. He helped Sapnap back down to the ground, watching his head loll to the side as his body slipped into unconsciousness once more, and he constructed the frame as fast as he could move the rock. Held together in the corners with stone, it really was a frail structure, but with the click of his flint and steel the portal sparked to life. Their faces were warped in the reflection, and Bad could see the worry on his face as clear as day. His eyebrows were knitted close and his cheeks were pale with fright, their escape plan was going to work but they were still down a member of the team. 

“George?!” He cried out, straining to hear a response, but nothing came. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself, winding his arms around Sapnap’s chest to pull him along the brick floor towards the portal. There was no telling what could await them on the other side - so long as it wasn’t a hoard of Zombies Bad decided it was worth the risk, and he pulled the two of them into the portal together. He closed his eyes and prayed, hoping that once they came through the other side everything would be okay.

The familiar nausea hit him as he emerged into the Overworld, followed by a shock of cold air, and Bad stumbled out onto a rocky floor. Opening his eyes revealed a cave: small; composed of diorite; and lit up entirely by the soft glow emanating from the portal. Aside from the ancient whispers that surrounded the portal the place was silent, and that at least gave Bad the chance to breathe. He didn’t allow himself the luxury for too long, though, taking coal and wood from his rucksack to make and light torches. Sapnap was still unconscious by the portal and for now Bad was content with leaving him there, not wandering far as he moved to confirm that they really were alone.

The cave was cut off from the outside world, a dead end. It was small and cold, but it was devoid of monsters and that was the best news that Bad had heard all day. He placed torches through the twisting path of the cave to try and light and warm the place up, before returning to Sapnap’s side. Now they were safe, guilt truly had time to wrap its fingers around his heart and stomach, and looking at the state that Sapnap was in made him feel sick. If he’d just gone back for that extra iron, if he’d given Sapnap his shield, if he’d managed to cut his arm off in one hit none of this would have happened. He was shivering and Bad was left wondering if he’d simply prolonged the inevitable - if his actions had just given him another way to die.

He felt tears stinging at his eyes and began to work to build a fire. Getting him warmed-up again was the first thing he could think of doing. Bad pulled the remainder of Sapnap’s armour away from his body, removing his own at the same time and taking off his hoodie to pull over Sapnap. The last thing he could think of was the blanket in his rucksack, covering him with it and placing the bag under his head. Maybe rest would help? They’d always respawned before, there’d never really been a need to learn what helped to make people  _ better  _ in this situation, they’d just find a painless way to die and come back without any ailments.

“I’m so sorry, Sapnap.” Bad whispered, a hand brushing through his hair as he sniffled. He was struggling to keep everything back, though not for lack of trying. George was still in the Nether and until they were all safe, until Dream was back, he’d just have to let the feelings in his chest eat him alive. He wouldn’t let himself lose focus again like he had before, Sapnap’s screams would haunt him for the rest of his life and he would never,  _ ever  _ let that happen again.

At that moment there was a thunderous noise, a crash of armour as a body hurled through the Nether portal and hit the floor suddenly. Bad was pulled out of his thoughts and to his feet, ready to act as he saw George scrambling.

“George!” He cried, relief flooding his body.

“Block it off, break it!” George replied urgently, taking whatever loose stone he could find and starting to bury the portal with it. Bad joined in without question, working quickly to hide the portal. 

“Was something chasing you?”

“A  _ lot  _ of somethings.” George said, clambering up their defences and using his sword to shatter the portal. It cracked like a mirror, splitting into tiny pieces and collapsing into dust on the ground. They were safe, nothing could follow them through, and George slid back to the ground and began to breathe deeply. The visor of his helmet was down, covering his face, but he still closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath and process everything that’d happened.

“Where are we?” George asked faintly, his breathing taking up most of his hearing from inside his armour. Clearly they were safe, nothing had attacked him and Bad hadn’t scolded him for taking a moment to rest.

“A cave.” Bad replied simply. “I haven’t looked outside, I’ve been trying to warm Sapnap up. He looks…  _ Bad _ .” He said, swallowing as his voice wavered. “I’m terrified that I’ve--”

“He’ll be fine.” George said, sitting up slowly and prying his visor open gradually. Bad wasn’t in front of him, so he lifted the visor entirely and looked down at Sapnap. He looked worse for wear, no amount of colourblindness could hide that, but George was certain he’d be okay. Sapnap was strong, he’d pull through, he just needed time to recover. “I’ll stay with him, can you check out what’s outside and we can plan what to do next?”

Bad nodded, grateful for a task to be given to him. It gave his mind something to focus on and he grabbed his pick and shovel before wandering to the other end of the cave. If there was something bad lurking on the other side of the walls he wanted to be as far from his friends as possible.

As George heard the stone pickaxe begin to chip away at the walls of the cave, he brought his hands to his helmet, grabbing either side and pulling it from his head. As he placed it on the ground his hands shook and he brought one to his face, covering the right side completely as he felt gingerly for his injury. If Bad saw he’d be furious at George’s carelessness, so as he stripped off the rest of his armour he tore a shred of fabric from the bottom of his trousers and tied it around his face. Bad would ask questions, but he couldn’t  _ see _ , and that was the important part. 

Once he’d taken brief care of himself he moved to Sapnap’s side, having horrible memories of holding Dream’s body in his arms not too long ago. He refused to let that be the case with Sapnap as well. They were at each other’s throats most of the time, but it had always been out of a brotherly love - he could never  _ truly  _ dislike the man, and would never ask for him to be injured. 

His thoughts moved back to Dream and his stomach churned in a way he’d become used to it every time he thought of the man. He missed him, he missed his laughter, the smile he’d see when he tilted his mask up just enough for George to see the way his lips curved upwards. He missed his gentle teasing, his hugs, his sincere compliments…

He didn’t want to let himself think what he was thinking, or feel the way he was feeling, because right now Dream was  _ dead  _ and  _ gone _ , and to think that he could be utterly in love with a man that he might never get back…

He took in a shaky breath, closing his eyes and reaching out to hold Sapnap’s hand. It wasn’t much, but it gave him a little comfort that he desperately needed.

# # #

Bad had been digging for the best part of an hour when he hit through the outer edge of the wall. Water had burst through, flowing down the rocky slope he had carved out, puddling on the floor and seeping through the rocks and soil below. He had made his way to speak to George and give him the news, but George had fallen asleep on Sapnap’s shoulder, the two close together and warm. Bad didn’t have the heart to wake them, knowing full well that they both needed to rest as much as possible, so he decided to explore the ocean they had found themselves in himself.

He scrambled back up the hole he had dug, struggling against the flow of the water, before he found himself out in the open. It had been a squeeze to get out the exit and it would need to be widened before the three of them left with their bags and armour, but it could work. 

Kicking his legs behind him, Bad swam towards a source of light on the ocean floor. Exposed magma would at least give him air to breathe and given how far the surface was he imagined that he would need it. The air wasn’t fresh, but his lungs were grateful for the chance to breathe and he gulped in as much oxygen as he could before he allowed himself to properly take in his surroundings. 

Much of the ocean floor was covered in gravel, although there were wood planks and stone towers, remnants of some kind of ancient structure, perhaps? The ocean was wide, Bad couldn’t see any land rising above the water in any direction and that concerned him - how were they supposed to get out of this place? They couldn’t go back through the Nether, there was no telling how many monsters would be waiting to kill them on the other side, but they needed to get back to land. They needed to rest up, to heal, and to find a Stronghold. 

The thought of journeying to the End had Bad shivering and he swam back to the magma, taking in another deep breath and relishing the way the warmer water managed to combat the chill in his bones. The only real solution he could think of for an escape was to build boats from the planks in the ground. They would be wet and weak, and would probably disintegrate the moment they clambered inside with their belongings, but what other choice did they have at this point? They couldn’t swim across an ocean with an unconscious Sapnap, if he wasn’t already inches from death Bad was certain that would utterly seal his fate. Cruddy old boats appeared to be the only solution. And they’d been lucky in their escape from the Nether, maybe they’d be lucky again here.

Bad pulled up planks from the ocean floor, cursing under his breath with each piece that had rotted away into nothing more than mush, and he worked desperately. Building underwater had never been his strong suit, but between the wood and kelp Bad managed to create something that looked like it might just stay together. He used the stream of gas from the exposed magma to propel himself and his creation up towards the surface. When he burst through and felt the warm miday air clinging to his head he took several hurried deep breaths, appreciating just how  _ good  _ it felt to breathe real air. He let himself have his moment, before floating on his stomach and starting to maneuver the boat. The stream of hot gas from the magma kept it above the surface and kept it floating, though it still took a great deal of effort to twist it over and turn it upright. 

After several minutes of working, splashing in the water and ignoring the exhaustion in his bones that threatened to drag him back down, Bad managed to successfully clamber into the boat turned right side up. It was floating, it held his weight, and he let out a laugh. It felt like it might  _ actually _ work.

Bad descended to repeat his actions, creating a second boat and taking a little extra kelp with him as he ascended this time. Once both boats were the right way up he tied them together, hoping that it would make it a little easier for the trio to stay close while they searched for land. As he dove back down once more he could only hope that the boats would remain where they were, untouched by the ocean currents as he found the small cave he had emerged from before. 

His legs wobbled as they touched solid ground and he changed from swimming to walking, the fires lit earlier warming the air just enough that he didn’t feel as if he was going to freeze to death immediately. Bad turned the corner to see George and Sapnap still resting and he shook his head - trust them both to sleep while he worked to keep them safe. It didn’t matter, though, what mattered was that they _ would _ be safe. Once they were back on land they could all rest for a while. 

Bad shook George’s shoulder lightly to wake him up, the younger man sitting up quickly in a way that caused Bad to frown. His sleep couldn’t have been that restful if he’d been so easy to rouse. But then Bad saw George’s face and frowned further, pointing a finger at the makeshift bandage across George’s head.

“What’s that?” He asked, George rubbing his eyes and wincing as he heard the accusatory tone in Bad’s voice.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch.” He said dismissively. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t change the subject, George, what happened to you?”

“It’s fine--”

“ _ GEORGE! _ ” Bad yelled, fists clenching at his sides as he snapped. “Dream is  _ dead _ , Sapnap is half dead on the floor and you have the  _ audacity  _ to sit there with an injury and not tell me what’s going on?! You want me to stand by and  _ watch  _ as something happens to you too? Something I can help with if you just stopped being such a gosh darn  _ stubborn _ muffin!”

George was quiet for a moment. If he refused again he was certain the rift forming between the two of them would become insurmountable, but at the same time he didn’t want to worry Bad unnecessarily. He took in a deep breath, letting his shoulders fall as his hands moved to undo the covering. “Prepare yourself.” He said quietly. “It’s probably worse than you’re thinking…”

“Nothing could be worse than--”

Bad trailed off, the words unable to leave his mouth as George removed the bandage. There was a cut across his face, but worse than that--

“Your  _ eye _ .” Bad breathed. “George, where… What…”

“Managed to corner a Pigman without it’s sword, it got my helmet off and swiped. No more eye.”

“It’s just gone?”

“I didn’t exactly have time to stop and look for it.” He shrugged, looking down at the ground sheepishly. “Just put my helmet back on and ran.”

“Stay there.” Bad instructed, sitting opposite George at Sapnap’s side. The journey to land could wait, Sapnap could warm up a little more and Bad could take care of his friend. Sitting cross-legged he took out a small first aid kit from one of the rucksacks, pulling out antiseptic wipes as he looked closer at George’s face. The empty eye socket was enough to make him gag but he forced it aside, carefully cleaning away the blood on George’s face and making sure there was nothing open that could result in an infection. He found bandages that he taped to his skin, covering the socket in the hopes that it would offer some protection against further wounds. He wouldn’t let George be hurt as well as Sapnap, he already felt far too much guilt at letting that happen.

“We can rest here for a little while longer.” Bad told him. “I’m sorry I shouted.”

“I’m sorry I lied.”

The pair fell quiet again, both thinking about what they were facing. A trip to the Nether had cost an arm and an eye, how much more was the End going to cost? Would they even be able to bring Dream back to life, or would they simply spend the rest of their days like this - missing one of their friends and various parts of their bodies? It was a question neither wanted to answer for fear of learning that their efforts had been for nothing, and so they sat quietly and thought.

Time passed slowly. The two of them closing their eyes to rest for a little while longer. The fire that had been lit to keep Sapnap warm helped to dry Bad’s clothes but before long it had faded into embers and dust. George was the first to awake this time, the pain in his eye socket too much for him to sleep particularly long, and he began to pack away their things. Once everything was back in a rucksack he gently shook Bad awake, Bad taking his pick to widen the exit from the cave while George slowly woke Sapnap. Though he couldn’t be certain he felt sure that some colour had returned to his friend’s cheeks, and as his eyes opened he seemed a little more alert. 

“You’re gonna have to take a deep breath and hold it, can you do that?” George asked quietly, not wanting to overcomplicate things if Sapnap was still in shock. But the man understood and nodded, looking at George curiously.

“My arm?”

“It’s gone, I’m sorry.”

“Your eye?”

“It’s a long story. Come on.” He said, helping him to his feet. George would come back for their things, for now he just wanted to get Sapnap onto one of the boats. As he helped Sapnap walk through the cave he could feel the man putting more weight on his own feet and felt a little relieved at that. When they made their way out of the cave and to the surface of the ocean they had to swim a little way to the boats, though they hadn’t drifted too far away while they had been resting. George helped Sapnap to climb in before swimming back down to meet Bad and grab their supplies.

By the time the three of them were in boats (George and Sapnap in one, and Bad and all of their gear and armour in another) the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. 

“We’ll need to watch out for Gurgler’s.” Sapnap said, smiling just a little at his own joke. Bad and George offered him a smile in return, but both were too concerned about the journey ahead of them to laugh. 

With no land in sight, Bad and George both took their shovels and used them to row their boats towards the sunset. As the light faded and turned to darkness, the moon casting a haunting glow across the ocean, they could only hope they were going in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D: sorry gogy
> 
> also please let me know if there's any SPAG errors in this, i've read it all out loud to myself to try and make sense of it before posting but i wrote this while having a really bad spell of dizziness so i may have missed a bit!


	6. An Argument & A Desert

The voyage across the ocean was long, and that gave the three men plenty of chances to think about what had happened over the last few days. They each tried to process things quietly, and if either George or Bad heard sniffles or sobs from Sapnap then neither of them said anything. They all needed space and time and Sapnap deserved the privacy he needed. The gentle rocking of the boats, the sound of shovels hitting the water and waves hitting the wood was enough to lull him into another sleep. If colour hadn’t been returning gradually to his cheeks then George and Bad would have been an awful lot more worried about him than they already were. 

Once he had drifted off, Bad and George spent a little while longer in their own silent bubbles as their feelings of sorrow and guilt grew. Their minds held both of them hostage and refused to let themselves just  _ talk  _ about how they felt - knowing that they weren’t alone could have given them at least a little comfort that they were in this together, but instead their inaction meant they were starting to feel distance growing between them.

Bad opened his mouth to speak at one point, silent tears trickling down his cheeks as he continued to look forwards and row, but George chimed in before he had the chance.

“I can see land.” He stopped rowing and pointed ahead, the horizon no longer a completely flat merging point between sky and sea. Bad pulled his shovel back into the boat and stopped, sniffling and wiping at his eyes with one hand as he looked into the distance.

“I can see it.”

George turned his head a little, his eye glancing towards Bad and seeing just how upset the other was. Should he mention it? If Bad had stayed quiet did that simply mean he didn’t want to talk about it?

“We should get to land, we can set up camp and have something to eat.” Bad said, taking in a breath and starting to row again, so George did the same, the worries of Bad’s condition fading from his mind. His stomach grumbled and he realised just how long it had been since he’d eaten anything, but he tried to ignore it as their journey continued.

Unbeknownst to George the sky was beginning to change colour, the dark blue starting to lighten just a little as the sun rose behind them. By the time they made it to shore it was very obviously day. Though clouds covered the sky the world was much brighter and any monsters that had lingered on the beach overnight had left to seek shelter in the darkness. Sleeping during the day might be difficult, but it would certainly be a lot safer, and the trio needed any rest they could get just now. Their boats came to shore quickly, Bad and George jumping out to pull them a little further onto the beach in a way that was painfully reminiscent of how this adventure had started, before starting to unload their things. Everything was utterly soaked from their swim, and as George started to lay things out to dry Bad left with an axe to forage for wood (not wanting to risk George missing the tree and hitting his arm while he began to get used to his lack of depth perception). Sapnap awoke a little while in, trying his best to bring rocks for the base of a fire. On several occasions he picked something up with his right hand, tossing it to his left before it hit the floor and he remembered. 

His enthusiasm was quick to disappear and the two worked in near silence until Bad returned with wood. Even then their spirits were much lower than usual and the two of them struggled to put on a brave face though it was obvious that they were both trying to pretend that everything was completely okay. Bad started the fire quietly and in favour of the wet bread in the bottoms of their bags, he used his sword to spear fish for them to cook and eat. 

Everything they did was accompanied by silence, unable to motivate themselves even though this was the closest they’d been to saving Dream, and the safest they’d been in a  _ very  _ long time. Thanks to the fire they’d dried out quickly, their bodies much warmer, but even still Sapnap was exhausted in a short amount of time. As the clouds in the sky cleared he fell asleep easily in the sand, leaving Bad and George alone again.

For the first time since they’d started, the question wasn’t  _ would  _ they be able to save Dream. Instead, they were wondering if it was  _ worth  _ saving him. Already they had sacrificed so much in the mere  _ hope  _ of bringing their friend back to life - how much further could they go? How much more could they afford to lose? The silence ebbed on for a number of minutes, Bad eventually the first to speak.

“I’m… I’m  _ scared  _ of dying, George.”

George looked over to Bad, bringing a hand to his chin and rubbing over the light stubble that had grown over the last few days. 

“We’re not going to die.” George said. “Neither of us will.”

There was a beat as George’s words rang in both of their ears.  _ Neither of us _ . 

“You think…”

“He’s… A liability.”

“George!”

“What, am I wrong?!” George scoffed in response, the conversation coming to an abrupt halt again as Bad was left to consider his response. He looked down to Sapnap, the man looking better but still sickly, still struggling, and unconscious again. They had nothing they could use to make him any better, but that didn’t make him any less of their friend.

“You don’t mean that.” Bad said. “We’re scared, we all are, but you don’t  _ mean  _ what you just said.”

“So what if I do.”

George looked away from Bad, staring out to sea and thinking. How much more were they  _ willing  _ to lose? A matter of hours ago he would have said his friends weren’t worth risking but now that things were getting more serious, now that they’d experienced brushes with death, it wasn’t such a hypothetical question anymore. 

“What are we supposed to do if we’re fighting Endermen and he’s too tired to run? Do we let the three of us die or do we leave him and our things behind?”

“George--”

“He’s asleep, he doesn’t need to suffer, it’ll be quick and we could even bring  _ him  _ back with whatever we make for Dream. If it even works.”

“George,  _ stop this _ !” Bad said, his hands balling up into fists. “I’m not listening to this anymore. You need to process your emotions but  _ this  _ isn’t healthy!” Bad knew the words were hypocritical, he wasn’t exactly dealing with his own feelings in the most sensible way possible, but he wasn’t talking about murdering their friend. “I said I’m terrified of dying, but I’d do it in a heartbeat for either of you. We’re getting Dream back, none of us will die in the process.”

The pair fell silent then and Bad shifted in the sand, moving just a little bit closer to Sapnap as if to defend him.

Beside them, the fire crackled, and the waves crashed against the sand rhythmically. It could have been peaceful if the tension between them didn’t scream at the top of its lungs.

Time passed. Bad sank lower where he sat until he fell asleep beside Sapnap, and George stood up. He grabbed his sword and rucksack, packing away a few things that he could use that the two of them wouldn’t miss, and without sparing a moment to think he wandered off inland. 

# # # 

“Bad, wake up--”

Bad was jolted from sleep, his mind disoriented for a moment as he sat upright on the beach and took a second to figure out where he was. The sky was still blue, which at least meant it was daytime, but everything around them was dry, which meant he’d been asleep long enough for their belongings to dry out. Sapnap was standing above him, shaking him awake with his arm, and his face looked desperate and panicked.

“Sapnap?”

“George’s gone.”

“What?” Bad asked, his mind suddenly being torn from sleep. After a beat he remembered the conversation he and George had before and he found himself suddenly completely alert. “Are you okay?”

“Okay? I’m fine, what do you--”

Bad got to his feet, one hand moving to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked around. Internally he swore, then scolded himself for swearing, and his mind began to race a million miles an hour. George had vanished, his bag was gone, and there were no footprints left in the sand.

“Have you tried to contact him?”

“No answer.”

Bad swore in his mind again, this time not telling himself off as he scrambled to pick things up from the beach and pack them into their rucksacks. He and George may have argued, George might have said some things he’d regret, but that didn’t mean he wanted the young man to storm off, angry, head first into something dangerous and stupid. He felt his heart racing and his breathing quicken, looking up to address Sapnap.

“Grab everything you can, I’ll carry the bulk of this. We need to find him before nightfall, I don’t like the idea of him out there alone.”

“We have no idea where he’s gone, how are we going to find him?”

“I don’t want to think about that, Sapnap.” Bad said, his mind frazzled. “I don’t want to think about any  _ ifs  _ or  _ buts _ , he’s our friend and we’re going to find him.”

Sapnap nodded, beginning to grab everything he could carry. Bad helped him to pull the rucksack over his shoulders, tightening the straps to make sure it didn’t slip off the stump of his left arm, and he gave him a small smile. Bad was about to suggest that they start walking, but Sapnap leaned down and wrapped his arm around him tightly, holding the older man as close as he could as he buried his head into his shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Bad asked softly, hugging his friend back and closing his eyes to just enjoy the moment. For a second, everything felt okay.

“I just think we need a hug.” Sapnap muttered quietly, and Bad was happy to accept that explanation. After the last few days the closeness was nice, he felt safe, and knowing how much this was helping him he felt as though it would be bringing Sapnap an awful lot more comfort. The man had almost died and lost his arm, Bad would give him anything he needed to feel safe. He rubbed his hands against his back comfortingly, letting out a gentle sigh. 

“This will be over soon, I promise.” 

“I know.” Sapnap said, though he wasn’t sure that it was a promise Bad could make. The world around them had changed so much that it seemed impossible for things to ever go back to normal. “And when they do, you can see your boyfriend again.” He teased - who said they couldn’t have  _ some  _ normality?

“Skeppy is not my boyfriend, Sapnap! Stop saying he is!”

“I never said his name.” Sapnap said, grinning from ear to ear as Bad pulled back with a playful scowl on his face. As the two of them started walking together the atmosphere between them had become much more cheerful again, and they laughed as they walked from the sand into the rolling fields ahead. Finding George and bringing Dream back still weighed heavily on their minds, but it felt nice to  _ laugh  _ for the first time in days. 

The pair walked together for hours, the world around them changing from a flat grassland to an open desert. While they had been cheerful when they’d first set out they’d quickly fallen back into silence, keeping a close eye out for George and radioing in every so often. George never responded, but Bad refused to split away from Sapnap. They might cover more ground that way, but they needed to have each other’s back. The sun had begun to set in front of them and while it forced them to strain their eyes a little more, it made it easier to see if there was any change on the horizon. If they could see something, or  _ someone _ , then they would be filled with a renewed hope of finding their friend. They also noted that being in a desert at night would make it a lot easier to find Endermen, and if they wanted to make it to the End they would need to collect their pearls. The Blaze rods were still whole, and now resided in Sapnap’s rucksack, but could be quickly broken down and combined with the pearls to find their way to a Stronghold. 

They saw an Enderman before they saw George. 

It had been a relief to see a figure on the horizon at first, followed by fear when they realised exactly what it was they were looking at. With only one arm Bad had given Sapnap his shield, refusing to allow any more harm to come to the man, and had stood at his side while making direct eye contact with the monster.

A second passed before it screamed, the eerie  _ vworp  _ filling the empty desert with sound as Bad held up his sword and Sapnap held the shield in front of them both. As it ran to attack, Bad focused his hits down low. Without its legs it couldn’t charge at them, though it could still teleport from spot to spot. The dark night sky helped it to blend in with its surroundings but they quickly located the creature, Bad running from behind the shield with his sword up and ready to swing. He beheaded the monster hastily, watching as its torso sunk forward onto the ground and the sand turned a rich purple with its blood. 

Retrieving the pearl was disgusting work. Sapnap kept a close eye on their surroundings for anything approaching them whilst Bad opened up the Enderman’s chest, pushing apart its organs until he found what he was looking for. A pearl, undamaged in the attack, ready for use. His hands were purple and sticky now but there was nothing he could do for that, wiping the blood on his clothes and gesturing for Sapnap to bend down so he could reach into the bag and grab a Blaze rod. He juggled the rod and the pearl, tucking the pearl underneath his arm for a moment as he snapped the rod in two and slipped half back into the bag, before focusing again on his work. 

He crumbled the brittle rod between his fingers, watching as dust covered the pearl in a thin layer of sparkling gold. When he was sure he had an even coating he placed the pearl on the ground, taking a step back with Sapnap and watching as the pearl began to fizz and bubble. The outer layer dissolved, the powder appearing to be absorbed before it hardened and the reaction stopped. Having an Eye of Ender made everything seem so much more real and Bad looked to Sapnap.

“Do you want to do the honours?” He asked, gesturing to the Eye on the ground. Sapnap nodded, moving to pick it up. For a brief moment he struggled to grip the Eye, finding it difficult to hold between his fingers with one hand, but when he found a technique to pick it up without slipping he felt his lips curve upwards into a small smile. He had been worried that his friends would think of him as  _ useless  _ now that he’d lost his arm, but throwing the Eye into the air and watching it hover for a moment reminded him that it wasn’t the case. The Eye moved diagonally left of them, further into the desert, before dropping back down to the ground with a dense thud. Bad wandered across the sand to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket before looking in the direction the Eye was taking them.

“George better be out there.” He said, his voice quiet knowing that it would carry to Sapnap easily.

“He will be, we’ll find him.” Sapnap assured him, taking a few steps to stand at his side. “ _ You’re  _ looking for him, if I ever went missing I’d want you looking for me. Pretty much guarantees I’ll be found.”

“Thanks, Sapnap.” Bad said, picking up his sword from beside the body of the Enderman and sheathing it at his side once more. “If you see an Enderman, shout. We need all the pearls we can get.”

# # #

Bad and Sapnap killed another three Endermen during their walk throughout the night, crafting Eyes of Ender and keeping them split between the two of them. While neither wanted to admit it,  _ if  _ something happened to one of them it would be for the best if they shared the burden of carrying the Eyes.

While their progress in gathering Eyes had been good, and at most it would only be another three nights before they had enough to travel to the End, they hadn’t seen George. Sapnap had been tired for hours now, and Bad could see that he was trying to work through it for his sake. He was about to suggest that they stop and rest as the sun began to rise but something else caught his eye instead.

“Is that--”

“George--” 

“Wait--”

The two of them stammered together, their words muddled and confused as they took in the sight before them. 

George, clear as day,  _ speaking  _ with an Enderman. For a moment neither of them knew how to respond or what to do, trying to process what they were watching. Could it have been a mirage? A trick? But the young man stood calmly, making eye contact and speaking to the monster without it screaming, without it attacking, everything just seemed… 

He raised his diamond sword and beheaded the creature, and while the danger had passed Sapnap and Bad found themselves left with more questions than answers.

The pair called his name, drawing his attention away from the monster and watching as life returned to his eye. It’d been almost glazed over, he’d looked  _ lost _ , and as they got closer they could see just how pale his skin looked.

“George!” Sapnap called out, fighting through his exhaustion and stretching out his arm towards his friend. “What happened, where did you go, what’s going on?!”

“I don’t…” He began slowly, swallowing as he looked between the two of them. Wordlessly, he leaned into Sapnap’s chest and a quiet sob wracked his body. Sapnap’s arm wound around George and he looked to Bad, nodding towards him and signalling for him to check the body for a pearl.

“It’s okay.” Sapnap said. “Whatever’s happened, you’re okay, we’re here now. Don’t run off on us like that again, we’ve been terrified.”

George didn’t say anything in response, his chest tightening as he cried, and Sapnap didn’t push him any further. He heard the squelch of Bad searching the Enderman’s corpse and after a moment, a disgruntled noise.

“Let’s find somewhere to rest.” Bad instructed, not taking any arguments from either of them. He could read them too easily and the closer they got to the End, the less risks he wanted to take. 

“There’s a cave not too far from here.” George said quietly. “I was… In there. For a while.”

Bad looked up to Sapnap, George still pressed close to his chest, and the pair frowned at the ambiguity of his words, but again refused to press any further. 

“We’ll head there now, is it safe?” 

“Yeah.” He said, moving away from Sapnap slowly and nodding. George brought his arms around himself and wrapped them around his middle, looking so much smaller than he usually did. Bad took it upon himself to wind their arms together and smile as brightly as he could, once more lifting the spirits of the group. He was beginning to feel the weight of it all on his shoulders, but he would continue to fight through it for his friends. He was relieved to see that George held no animosity towards Sapnap, even if it came at the expense of his own dazed state. Bad refused to bring up the topic around Sapnap, but he found that he didn’t entirely trust George. He would ask questions later but for now he would settle for this. 

The three walked in an amicable silence, the sun rising further in the sky behind them as they trekked towards the cave that George had mentioned, though when they arrived it appeared to be more of a crater than a cave, with steep slopes of sand cascading down to a rocky hole. There was a tunnel that led further underground with a soft glow indicating the presence of lava, and while George descended comfortably and confidently both Sapnap and Bad were more cautious in their descent. As much as possible they tried to keep their footing and stay standing rather than simply putting their faith into gravity - neither of them really trusting the world to keep them safe right now. 

Beneath their feet the stone was a welcome reprieve, walking on sand for hours on end had been exhaustingly hard work with every five steps forward feeling like two back as the wind had shifted the landscape before them. Standing on something just a little bit more permanent was a relief.

“What were you doing down here, George?” Bad asked.

“Looking for the Stronghold.” He said with a shrug. “I had a feeling it was around here.”

Sapnap looked to Bad, who gave him a thumbs up, and Sapnap took one of the Eyes from his pocket. He tossed it into the air above them, watching as it levitated away. It didn’t move far, but when it stopped travelling it popped with a sickening crack and the three of them watched the broken shards of the Eye shatter to the ground.

“Two Eyes, then.” Bad sighed, his shoulders falling as he bit on his bottom lip to keep his concerns at bay. He was sure when Dream was back he’d have no lips left.

“We can explore later, for now we need to rest. Have something to eat, get ready. If we’re going into the End I want us to be focused, I don’t want anything to come between us and that Dragon’s breath.”

There was an unspoken worry beginning to surround the group - that as well as retrieving the Dragon’s breath they’d have to fight their way out of the End the only way they knew how: by killing the Dragon. They were ill-equipped for such a task, and while they could fairly easily make bows for themselves it would be a lot more difficult to gather arrows. Perhaps they could scavenge the cave for any Skeletons and kill as many as possible, looting their bodies and taking what ammunition they had. It was an additional risk now, but it might make things a little easier later, and with how tired and wounded they all already were the idea of making their battle in the End a little bit easier was incredibly appealing.

While Bad and George had been stuck in thought, Sapnap had found a relatively comfortable spot and lowered himself to the ground already. His eyes were shut and he was snoring softly, and Bad couldn’t help but smile as he saw the rise and fall of his chest, and the way that his hair bounced softly each time he breathed out.

“Bad… What I said before.”

“I know.”

“Let me say it.” George said, feeling very small next to the older man. “I shouldn’t have said any of it, you were right, I  _ didn’t  _ mean it. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Bad repeated, and George was acutely aware that he didn’t accept his apology. He understood, it would take an awful lot more to believe that George’s words spoken in anger and fear were just that, and suggesting killing their friend wouldn’t be the easiest thing to be forgiven for. 

“Bad--”

“Go to sleep, George.” Bad replied, turning his back to him and shrugging his rucksack off his shoulders. He moved closer to Sapnap, making it clear that he still wanted to keep some distance from him now that Sapnap was asleep and the facade could fall. George didn’t try to get any closer, sinking himself back down against the rock face opposite them and closing his eye.

He had a thousand questions in his mind from the night before, and not having anyone to talk to about them terrified him. He’d never felt quite so alone, never felt so lost, and he only had himself to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love that proof reading chapters is no longer about spelling mistakes, it's making sure sapnap hasn't regrown his arm & george doesn't have two eyes lol


	7. Mineshafts & Libraries

George was awake long before his friends, voices whispering in his mind keeping him from sleeping. He felt tiredness clinging to his bones as he got to his feet, arms wrapped around himself to keep warm despite the hot desert sun. Sapnap and Bad were still sleeping, far away from him, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. His mind was haunting him, guilt over Dream’s death and his thinly veiled threat towards Sapnap manifesting into what felt like him losing his mind. Why they had searched for him, he didn’t know, part of him wished they didn’t. Now he was left to look at them and think about his mistake. 

When he had suggested killing Sapnap, he had meant it, and that terrified him. Sapnap was one of his best friends and losing him would be no less painful than losing Dream. How he had thought for even a moment that he could not only go through with his plan, but deal with the emotional fallout from it, was utterly beyond him. His thoughts moved on to Dream - how  _ angry  _ he’d be if he found out what George had said. He was utterly in love with the man and his heart ached more and more every second without him, but any hopes of romance between them was gone. The guilt he remembered from when they had first started this adventure - the desire to leave their lives as soon as everything was fixed - grew stronger again. They would be better off without him, surely.

George wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but his vision was blurred and he felt tears dripping down onto the back of his hands. He wandered to the edge of the tunnel - his hand held out towards the rockface to keep himself from falling - and he looked down. Only having one eye left him feeling incredibly vulnerable in a place like this.

_ ‘George…’ _

George looked around. Bad and Sapnap were still fast asleep, there was no one else here, but he moved his hand to the hilt of his sword nervously. Someone had said his name, it was more than just a whisper in his mind.

“Hello?” He asked quietly, turning back to the tunnel that led underground and starting to carefully lower himself down. He didn’t want to wander off too far, lest his friends think he’d abandoned them again, but he found himself growing more and more curious. He could still hear his name, something was calling to him from inside the cave, and before long his fear had been completely replaced with a timid interest. What was calling him?  _ Why  _ was it calling him?

He continued down the steep slope of the rockface, managing to find footholds that made the descent a little safer, though the world began to flatten out once more as he reached the bottom. He could feel the heat of lava wafting towards him, hear the mobs in the darkness hissing, scuttling, and sneaking around, but he was completely alone. The whispers in his mind seemed to grow louder and louder like they had the night before, until they became deafening. He strained to keep standing, feeling the words overwhelming him entirely and leaving him open to attack. He was reminded of feeling isolated in the desert, weary and exhausted, lost and alone, and he closed his eye as he tried to bring his focus back to the real world. With one hand resting on the cool rock beside him he concentrated on his breathing, counting to three as he breathed in and five as he breathed out. 

George remained like that for several minutes, waiting until he was composed enough to reopen his eye and look around him. Shadows cast by the light from the lava danced across the walls and he leaned back, sighing and slowly sinking to the ground. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, but he was certain that it was something bigger than he had first thought. He needed to talk to Bad and Sapnap about this, but he doubted they would trust him enough to have a proper conversation anytime soon.

“George?” 

Sapnap’s voice echoed in the cave around him and he looked up towards the light, seeing the man standing at the top of the steep slope. 

“Did you roll out of bed or something?” He said cheerfully, and George felt sick. Bad clearly hadn’t told him what he’d said, and how he could have even thought of it tightened around him like a vice.

“I thought I’d explore.” He shouted back as confidently as possible. “There’s some iron down here, some gold.” George looked back around the cave he was in, trying to see if there was anything else of interest. 

“Can you see any Endermen?” This time, Bad’s voice echoed around him. “Wait, don’t look, stay where you are. Sapnap and I will come to you.”

Their heads disappeared from view and George found himself groaning quietly, forcing himself to find his composure before they joined him. For now the whispers in his head had quietened again and so for now, he could ignore them.

Watching Bad and Sapnap make their descent was tense. He found himself worried that one of them would fall, but even as he dodged little stones that came loose they managed to make it down unharmed. Bad had brought half of their gear with them and when George tried to climb back up, the older man refused. George knew what he was doing - he didn’t want to risk the two of them while they were injured - but he was concerned for just how far Bad was pushing himself. Surely he must’ve been exhausted, his muscles must be aching. Even  _ with  _ stopping to rest for a while, George couldn’t imagine that he was particularly comfortable. He made sure, quite deliberately, to carry the bulk of their belongings in return - Sapnap with the least weight to make sure he didn’t hurt his shoulder anymore. He seemed much happier and much brighter, and neither George nor Sapnap wanted to risk dampening his spirits by causing him any more pain. Once they had spread their load and eaten a little food, the three began to explore the world around them.

“Keep an eye out for a Stronghold.” Bad said, Sapnap chuckling to himself.

“Seems a little insensitive, George only has one left.”

“Sapnap!” Bad gasped. “George, you know I didn’t--”

“Relax, it’s funny Bad.” George replied. “Just don’t ask Sapnap to give you a boost over any rocks.”

“George!” Bad exclaimed, shaking his head. “You two are supposed to be traumatised, losing your eye or your arm isn’t supposed to be a comedic experience.”

George and Sapnap shared a mischievous smile, the worries that weighed on their shoulders lifted for just a moment as they found the strength to laugh at themselves. There was a pain in their eyes, though - the fact that if they weren’t laughing they’d be crying was obvious. But at Bad’s insistence to stop joking they fell quiet, walking silently through the twisting caves.

It wasn’t long before the ceiling of the tunnels began to rise and the walls opened out, stalactites plunging down from above and water dripping slowly onto their heads. Combined with the darkness, it was a good place to hunt for Endermen, the three of them taking their swords and torches to explore on their own deeper in the cave. They didn’t wander off too far from each other, all still able to call out when they needed to and not having to use their radios to communicate just to make sure they were close enough to help each other if they needed backup. 

Bad had found a small stream of water continuing downhill, jumping in to offer some protection from charging Endermen and wading through slowly. It was only ankle deep, but it was freezing cold and sent shivers through his body. Waving his torch in front of him he kept a close eye out for enemies, hearing the familiar scuttles of spiders nearby. If there was a Stronghold not too far from here he was sure that danger lurked around every corner.

He heard a familiar  _ vworp _ , the sound gentle and curious. And then he heard another coming from a different direction. Two Endermen. It offered two chances of a pearl, but it meant there was a higher risk when fighting. 

“Sapnap.” Bad called, beckoning him over. Glancing to his right he could see George searching a little further away on his own and opened his mouth to call for him too, but he found himself hesitating.

He realised that he didn’t  _ trust  _ George.

It was a realisation that fell heavily in his chest, but one that didn’t entirely surprise him. After what he had said about Sapnap yesterday - even if he hadn’t truly meant it - and what he had seen in the desert… Something was wrong with George, and now wasn’t the time he wanted to find out what it was. He couldn’t risk anything happening because of George’s compromised mental state.

“Take my shield.” He said, holding the instrument out for Sapnap as the two easily fell into their technique from the previous night hunting in the desert. The two of them made a good team, and as they jumped down a small ledge water splashed further up their legs and they saw what they were looking for. Two Endermen, just a little bit further ahead. With the confidence that the water gave him, Bad ran forwards with his sword and struck fast, swinging and hitting as quickly as he could. He took off the legs of the first Enderman and wounded the second, both screaming loudly in pain. Sapnap jumped forwards to provide cover, holding the shield in front of Bad as the creatures teleported behind them. Their cries echoed in the cave, shaking the stalactites and causing several to crumble as the sound resonated around them. Bad hit again, cutting the head off both with a ferocity that Sapnap hadn’t seen before - it was almost enough to frighten him. Was this his way of processing everything? Bottling in his emotions and using them to drive harder hits to the monsters that surrounded them? He didn’t have long to think, watching as Bad kneeled down in the water and pulled the chests of the Endermen closer, searching their bodies for a pearl.

“Should we be worried that we can’t hear George anymore?”

“George can look after himself.” Bad replied, before he stopped moving for a moment to think about what he’d said. It wasn’t quite as direct as George’s suggestion to kill Sapnap, but was his deceleration that the man didn’t need backup just as bad? Was he passively suggesting they let something terrible come to him? No, it couldn’t be, he didn’t  _ trust  _ George but they were still friends. Their friendship just looked different now. 

He was lucky enough to pull a pearl from each Enderman, pocketing them and tallying that they now had four, before standing back up.

“No, you’re right, we should check on him.” He decided quietly, moving ahead of Sapnap back the way they came with his head down in shame. 

Sapnap watched him with a frown on his face. Something had happened between the two of them while he was unconscious and he had a sneaking suspicion that neither of them would tell him - certainly not without a little prompting, but as they scrambled back up to the main cavern it didn’t feel like quite the right time to ask. Whatever it was, it would come out eventually. He just hoped it would before something awful happened.

George was nowhere to be seen in the main cavern and Sapnap made another torch. They knew which way George had headed and followed in his direction, hearing a loud splash. There was no cry, no sound of an Enderman or any other monster that could have engaged in a fight - both of them found the silence worrying and they broke out into a sprint. Now that Sapnap had regained his energy he managed to push ahead of Bad, rounding the corner of the tunnel to see another cliff face. It wasn’t a small drop - it wasn’t one that either of them wanted to take knowing that the world had suddenly become something much more dangerous - but there was nowhere else that George could’ve gone. Maybe he’d trusted that the pool of water at the bottom would have been enough to break his fall, he certainly wasn’t still there and clearly had gotten back to his feet and continued to walk. Still, neither Sapnap or Bad wanted to follow in his footsteps, and they lowered themselves much more carefully down to the ground. 

“George?” Bad called out, taking the torch from Sapnap who moved his hand to the radio at his side. From a short distance away they could hear more water splashing. “Is that you?”

Walking side by side the pair began to make their way towards the noise. It was coming closer to them, and Bad let his right hand sink to the hilt of his sword. If this wasn’t George, he would be prepared to strike.

“George, this isn’t funny.” Sapnap said. “Where  _ are  _ you?” And then, in a lower voice, he addressed Bad. “Why does he keep doing this, what’s going on with him?”

There was another quiet moment, footsteps approaching them both and a light beginning to round the corner. Bad’s fingers wrapped around his sword, ready to act, when George emerged from the darkness. He was met with glares from both Bad and Sapnap but he barely seemed to acknowledge their emotion at all. 

“I found some more pearls.” He said simply.

“What do you mean,  _ found _ ?” Bad asked. “You mean you killed Endermen and they had pearls?”

“What?” George blinked, and then. “Yes, yes, that’s right.”

His lack of certainty in his own answer didn’t exactly instill Bad with confidence, but as George showed off the three pearls from his pocket they refrained from commenting. Seven, they had seven pearls. Maybe they’d find one in the Stronghold, and maybe there’d be an Eye already in the frame. Three more should be enough, four  _ definitely  _ would.

“There was a mineshaft.” He said, pocketing the pearls and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Do you want to have a look around? We can collect string, maybe there’s some skeletons, we could take their bows and arrows.”

As the conversation moved on Bad and Sapnap relaxed, putting their thoughts surrounding George aside as they nodded. He seemed more alert now than he had at the start of their conversation and the three began to walk together, although the atmosphere between them was starting to change. Bad’s mistrust of George had him walking closer to Sapnap, and in turn that made Sapnap more suspicious of his friend. Once they were through with all this they needed to have a  _ very  _ long conversation.

The mineshaft was there, as promised, and the sudden change in height of the world around them left Sapnap feeling claustrophobic. Everything felt too close, like something between them all was going to snap any second now, but he didn’t mention it. As the torch was handed back to him and Bad and George unsheathed their swords he tried not to think about how useless he felt in the situation, overtly aware of all the sounds around them. Spiders scurried along the wood above their heads, Skeletons battled in the darkness, and creepers patrolled the distant corridors. One wrong step could kill them, and Sapnap found himself wondering if maybe that meant  _ him _ . He relied entirely on his friends protecting him.

Was he becoming a burden?

The thought didn’t last long, it wasn’t given space to, as they rounded a corner and saw a tunnel filled with cobwebs. In the middle of it all they could see dozens of spiders, mothers caring for their children and eggs being laid in a nest. Continuing was a death sentence at the best of times, continuing  _ now  _ was even moreso, so Sapnap excused himself for questioning just  _ why  _ George began to cut a path through the cobwebs for the three of them to traverse. 

There was a chest a short way into the tunnel, and inside were three diamonds: enough for a second sword and then some to spare. Perhaps that was worth it, but as Sapnap began to return the way they came a creeper prowled past and he felt Bad’s hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“We’re going to sneak round.” He whispered.

“You two are  _ insane _ .” Came his reply, although he felt as if he were more insane for following them. They stuck close to the walls, moving slowly and methodically to try to attract as little attention as possible. When Sapnap was asked to extinguish the torch he was relieved, hooking the wood back at his side and taking his sword into his hand, and he felt much safer the moment he could defend himself. 

Despite the three of them moving silently, everything seemed too loud. They were hyper aware of their own breathing, the beating of their hearts and the fall of their footsteps. The nest of spiders hissed, legs scuttling ominously all around them. The floor above them must have been infested too, and the three of them felt the hairs of the backs of the necks standing up almost permanently as they managed to round the corner to start putting more distance between them and the nest. Bad took the lead then, George offering to cover them with his shield and placing himself at the back of the pack. They walked together uneventfully, Bad managing to quickly cut them out of the webs and into a much more open corridor. There didn’t seem to be much for them to find - sure they could gather more resources, but there was little point in that. Their armour was still holding together, they would soon have two diamond swords: now it mattered more for them to find Endermen and the Stronghold, so the three of them split up once again.

They made sure to leave small etchings on the wood of corridors they’d been down, trying to keep themselves from doubling back as they searched for any hints of something  _ different _ \- different bricks, a source of light, perhaps even a dilapidated, crumbling corridor that had become exposed to the mineshaft. Bad managed to find another Enderman, killing it but having no luck in finding a pearl. That happened for the next two Endermen that he and Sapnap found, both seeming to run into a wall of terrible luck. Still, better for it to happen now than in the End - they could all easily agree on the fact that bad luck in the End would mean failing in their quest, and joining Dream wherever he happened to be now. 

Bad didn’t voice his fears on the matter, but the words he had dreamed several nights ago still hung heavy over his head. 

“I’ve found it--” 

George’s voice crackled to life over the radio, Bad and Sapnap both grabbing their device at the same time and replying in a garbled mess.

“You did, where are you?” 

“Brilliant, I’m coming!”

They spoke over each other hurriedly, George giving the best instructions he could given the circumstances. It wasn’t particularly helpful but they accepted that there were only so many corridors they could walk down, and following the markers that George had left behind him at least meant that Bad and Sapnap found each other fairly quickly. After hastily exchanged smiles they continued to walk together, keeping a close watch in all directions and checking through the chests they passed. George had clearly looted them already, nothing but leather and half rotten apples lay in them.

They continued on, Sapnap spotting a Skeleton and acting quickly to kill it before it had a chance to shoot at him. Bad found himself wincing, worrying as he watched the younger man engage in combat without any way to really protect himself from harm, and made a note to not let him do anything of the sort when they made it to the End. 

_ When _ . No longer an if, but a when.

When the Skeleton died Sapnap passed Bad the bow, knowing that he would be completely unable to do anything with it, and took as many arrows as he could carry. Stuffing them in his rucksack - which was becoming full incredibly quickly - they began to journey on again.

# # #

George had become far too relaxed whilst waiting for his friends. 

As time had passed he had stopped looking out around him, taking an opportunity to rest and catch his breath. He replayed the conversation he had with Bad and Sapnap before they’d entered the mineshaft, closely examining everything they’d said and the way they acted. They were hesitant, he hadn’t had a proper explanation for how he’d come into possession of three pearls in such a short period of time, and the more he thought the more lost and confused  _ he  _ became about the whole situation.

After all, how did he get those pearls?

He was deep in thought when he heard the sound of a spider hissing, and barely had a moment to shift from where he leaned on the wall when the creature pounced at him. He barely had enough time to recognise that it was a cave spider - smaller than those on the surface but far more deadly, and as he fell back on the ground he heard a sickening crack on the back of his head.  _ Fuck _ , that couldn’t have been good. Despite this spider’s smaller size it was still incredibly strong, its four back legs either side of his waist, keeping him pinned to the ground as its front legs swung at his head. He felt an impact on the right side of his face, the pain in the empty socket of his eye flaring up once again. 

Adrenaline kept him going, pushing him through his pain. He managed to raise his arms above his face to prevent any further hits, the spider’s face awfully close to him. It hissed angrily and saliva dripped from its mouth, its fangs ready to inject a venom into him as soon as it had a chance. George knew he couldn’t let it  _ have  _ that chance, and so he forced his legs upwards and wrestled with the creature. He tried to force it away from him, but his head was spinning from the fall and he found himself too weak to push it off.

_ This was it _ , he was certain this was it, and while he had already accepted that after their quest he would leave his friends to be happy without him, he wasn’t ready to die. He had to help to bring Dream back, he needed to be able to do  _ one  _ good thing with his life, he had to find a way to undo all of the pain he’d caused and dying wasn’t going to make things right. Dying wouldn’t make Bad forgive him for what he’d said, it wouldn’t bring Dream back. It wouldn’t make his friends smile again and it wouldn’t return Sapnap’s arm. He closed his eye, pushing back harder and trying to find a way to make peace with himself when he heard the sound of metal cutting through flesh. He felt the spider release its grip on him and it’s body falling limp against his chest, blood pouring out over his clothes. 

As he pushed the corpse off his body he rushed to get to his feet, immediately hit with a wave of nausea and he reached out to the man next to him to keep his balance. Sapnap sheathed his sword, his arm moving to George’s shoulder and squeezing tightly.

“Hey, you’re alright.”

“George, deep breaths.” Bad instructed, his own hand making contact with him. “We heard the fall from back there, it sounded bad, take it slowly.”

As his friends held him steady, George brought a hand to the back of his head and winced at the pain he felt. Despite their instance that the fall had been bad he shook his head, not wanting to appear weak in front of them: he was already causing enough trouble, he didn’t need them to worry about him too.

“I’m fine.” He said, feeling a little blood on the back of his head. No matter, his hair would keep it hidden from them - so long as he remained conscious and useful they didn’t need to know. “I found it.” He changed the conversation quickly, pointing down to the end of the corridor. Bad and Sapnap followed his arm and were immediately distracted by the sight of the brick wall. With relieved smiles on both of their faces hiding the fear of what would lay on the other side they walked towards it hurriedly, Sapnap already reaching for his pick to knock through the wall. George was glad that their attention was diverted from him, able to take a little time walking slowly behind them as he tried to reorder his head after the fall. He’d already been struggling to keep up with the events of the last few days, the jolt had only made it worse.

Sapnap managed to crack through the old bricks quickly, pushing the rest out of the way as they came loose and there was now easy access for the three of them. Searching for the portal room would take some time, but now they were here everything felt tantalisingly real, so close.  _ Dream was almost back _ .

“Should we split up again?” George asked, approaching the two from behind and stepping over the remains of the wall carefully. Sapnap looked to Bad briefly before shaking his head. Neither of them truly believed that George had gotten away from his fall unscathed, but using that as their reason would only serve to make George more defensive, more upset, and more reckless.

“No, there’s going to be far too many monsters in here to risk it. We’ll go together, take it slow, search the place thoroughly to find more pearls.” He replied, Bad looking down the corridors of the Stronghold and nodding his head towards a source of light.

“I suppose we could start there and work our way through?”

“No, let’s go this way.” George said, pointing in the opposite direction. “The portal’s that way, I can feel it.”

The corridor he pointed down was dark, and that meant it would surely be full of danger, but given that he’d already managed to locate where the Stronghold was without using any Eyes of his own Bad and Sapnap found that they believed him. 

“Fine, lead the way.” Bad said, drawing his sword once more. George and Sapnap followed suit, and the three of them began to walk in close proximity to each other. They moved much more slowly, although George never seemed to stop to consider which way to go at a junction. He always knew just where he wanted to head, and while Bad and Sapnap found themselves losing track of where they’d been as they fought off monsters in the darkness, George continued unperturbed. They definitely needed to get to the bottom of all this once things had returned to normal, but for now they walked in silence. 

“George, wait, there’s a library.” Bad called after several minutes of quiet, breaking the man from his trance and watching as he halted in his steps. He turned back around to face Bad and Sapnap, Bad gesturing his head to the entrance.

“The man in the pub mentioned that this potion was a story, maybe something in here will be able to tell us more. If there’s something we’ve missed, or anything else we need… It’s worth looking.”

George considered Bad’s words for a moment, before he wordlessly moved past them and stepped into the library. The room was large, the ceiling was high and books were stacked in rows of towering shelves. It seemed strange that literature could have remained down here for as long as it had, dating back hundreds of years - if not more. It was a miracle of human ingenuity that so many of these relics lay undisturbed, and the three of them wandered through the crumbling room, running fingers over leather bound books in the hope that they’d find something useful to their cause. 

Bad and Sapnap both picked up a book, huffing when they found that they were written in an unfamiliar language. It was to be expected - language had evolved so much over the centuries that even if something were written in their mother tongues it would’ve been difficult to process, but George seemed completely enthralled in the book he had found. He skimmed over the pages, his eye scanning the words as quickly as possible and taking it all in. There had to be something they could use.

Bad picked up another few books from the shelves but found that it was all incomprehensible, so he stopped. Instead, he watched George and Sapnap wandered past him, looking over his shoulder to glance at the words on the paper. He walked a lap around the shelves so as not to arouse suspicion, creeping up behind Bad and nodding to him. Whatever silent conversation they were having, it was interrupted by George.

“Shit!” He cursed, and Bad straightened. 

“ _ Language! _ ” He chastised, shaking his head. “What?”

“This isn’t going to work.” George admitted, and both Sapnap and Bad fell silent. Had this all been for nothing, had they given so much to get Dream back only to be met with the harsh reality that this had all been a scam, that it wasn’t real, that they’d lost who they were and broken their trust in each other all for nothing? “The potion will bring him back to life, but it won’t heal him. He’ll be in immense pain and unless he gets proper medical attention nothing will be able to keep him alive for very long.”

“But we’re in the middle of nowhere, that village didn’t exactly appear equipped to deal with something like that.” Sapnap said.

“What can we do, there must be something?” Bad said, leaning back against the wall and bringing his hands to his face. He pressed his thumbs into his temple and groaned. This  _ couldn’t  _ have been for nothing, he’d never forgive himself if George and Sapnap had been this badly injured in his care pointlessly.

“I have an idea.”

George and Bad looked to Sapnap, his eyes filled with fear. Whatever he was going to say, they both dreaded hearing it.

“How much am I going to hate it?” Bad asked.

“A lot.” Sapnap said, and George’s face became one of realisation. He’d had the exact same thought, and finished it for him.

“A beacon, we’d need to kill a Wither.”

“What?!” Bad shook his head. “No, those Skeleton’s almost killed Sapnap, we’re not doing that, there must be another way.”

“It makes sense.” Sapnap said. “And if we don’t, that Wither Skeleton almost killed me for nothing.”

“I’m in.” George said, not having to consider his answer even for a moment. “It’s the best chance we’ve got to bring Dream back, and maybe it’ll help us too. Maybe it could bring back my eye, or Sapnap’s arm.”

“I don’t think--”

“So it’s settled, two votes for, one against. We’ll make a beacon.”

Bad felt his shoulders falling and he covered his face with his hands. All his anxiety about the terrors they would face in the End had left him - now he was much more terrified about whatever awaited them if they somehow managed to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now you know why this fic is titled after the achievement for spawning a wither ;D
> 
> any theories you have for what hell i'm going to put these three through over the next few chapters are very, very welcome!


	8. Fate & The End

There were two Eyes already in the End portal frame. 

It was the first bit of good news they’d had in what felt like days. With the seven Eyes they already had that made nine - only three to go - and they found one pearl in a chest. They stayed close together as they searched the corridors of the Stronghold for the remaining two, though the atmosphere between them remained tense. Bad and Sapnap were still holding George at arms length, still suspicious of his behaviour and weary of what may happen next, but gathering the pearls was as uneventful as could be. It was eerie, the calm before the storm, the last thing they would be doing before travelling to the End. They had blocked themselves off into the portal room, emptied their rucksacks onto the ground and begun sorting through their belongings to spread the load as evenly as possible and to make sure that George and Bad - the only two still physically capable of using a bow and arrow - had as much ammunition as possible. Sapnap was given empty glass bottles, tasked with collecting as much Dragon’s Breath as possible, and as much as he disliked having such a  _ simple  _ undertaking while his friends would be risking their lives, he understood it. He also understood its importance.  _ Someone  _ had to gather the Dragon’s Breath, he wasn’t being given the task just to keep out of their way and it wasn’t meant as an insult.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel useless once more. 

“Get as much as you can.” Bad said, clearly picking up on his emotions. He thought he’d been hiding them fairly well - apparently not. “If something happens and we need to bring someone else back it’s easy enough to get more Ghast Tears, we’d have to wait until the next egg hatches to get more Dragon’s Breath.”

None of them wanted to discuss the implications of what Bad had said, but knowing that they had to kill a Wither and make a beacon just to ensure that Dream would come back meant that they all  _ knew _ . The risk of losing another one of them was real, and worse than that it was  _ likely _ . Dragon eggs would take months before hatching, who knew if a body would even survive that long to be brought back.

With armour strapped to their bodies, swords at their sides and rucksacks on their shoulders they were ready to go. Physically, they were ready. Mentally they each lingered at the top of the steps to the portal, Bad holding the last two Eyes in his hands. When they’d said their goodbyes before stepping into the Nether things had been very different - and looking back Bad only wished the task ahead of them was going to be as easy as killing Blazes - but he found he had nothing more to say. The realisation almost felt worse than the act of saying nothing, and so he took a deep breath and placed the last two Eyes into place.

The world around them shook, a deafening boom filling the portal room of the Stronghold and causing the walls and ceiling to crumble. Dust fell as a split carved its way through the dimensions, a hole in space and time being scuplted by the sheer power of the portal. A blinding white light emanated from the middle of the frame, glowing like one imagined the beginning of the Universe had, before it expanded outwards exponentially. If it wasn’t for the frame holding it in place the tear would’ve continued to expand, the world around them would have vanished entirely and they’d have been left stranded in a place far from home. But it didn’t, instead a dark pool lay in front of them with stardust scattering the surface. They’d never stopped to appreciate the portal before, always set on chasing Dream down and stopping him from killing the Dragon.

It felt strange to not be jumping in.

“For Dream?” Sapnap suggested, deciding that they were possibly the only words to break through the tension and rally the trio. For Dream, this had all been for Dream. 

“For Dream.” George echoed, his voice quiet and filled with longing. 

“For Dream.” Bad agreed, turning to look at Sapnap with a reassuring smile on his face - something to tell the young man that everything would be okay.

Bad held his hands out either side of him, feeling Sapnap’s hand holding his tightly and George’s slipping loosely into his grip. The three of them took a step forward together, closing their eyes as they felt themselves stretch, tear, fall apart and reform as they crossed the event horizon and continued on their journey.

It ended with a heavy thud. Three bodies dropping several feet after swelling back into existence a little above the platform they arrived on. A small obsidian world, a short distance from the island of endstone that appeared to float in the void. None of them had ever considered just how the world worked - if there were some kind of dark matter that held the place together, if gravity could even exist like that in their home world, but they managed to keep standing and keep breathing. That was enough to keep them from asking too many questions.

George rolled from his back onto his stomach, clambering to his feet with a gentle groan as Bad stood up and helped Sapnap follow suit. From where they stood they could see the island - dozens of Endermen clustered together as the Dragon flew high above their heads. She was a strange beast, mythical, enchanting, but deadly. None of them could underestimate just how difficult this was going to be, and that reflected in their silent work. They began to create a bridge to take them close enough to land as they listened to the Dragon’s wings beating through the air, the true force of her made clear by the strong bursts of wind that almost had the three of them falling into the void on more than one occasion.

_ For Dream  _ was the mantra that kept them going, repeating over and over in their heads like they were madmen.

George felt as if that might be true.

The whispers had returned, this time they were much louder and much more persistent, and while he tried to ignore it he was certain the look on his face made it obvious that something was wrong. Sapnap and Bad said nothing, which he took for granted, not sure he’d have been able to explain himself even if they had asked, and before long they had built a structure that took them far enough across the void that they could jump to more solid land.

Bad crossed first, being the most able bodied of the three he was able to help guide the other two across. Sapnap jumped with little difficulty, though he needed a little help balancing himself as he landed. Bad took his hand tightly, pulling him up against the small cliff face they stood against and, when he was confident that he was balanced, turned back to face George. George had more of a problem, his lack of depth perception meant he ran the risk of missing his footing entirely on the run up to the jump and elected to jump from standing. It meant he couldn’t jump as far, but Bad had his arms out ready to catch him and Sapnap was there to hold Bad if he needed it. 

Between the three of them they made it across, taking pickaxes to carve a way on top of the platform rather than risking falling off the cliff face and into the void. At least if they died up there they had a body, a way to come back. Dying in the void was a different matter entirely, and one none of them wanted to investigate personally.

Once they had emerged onto the surface the scale of the challenge began to dawn on them, pillars of obsidian towering so high into the sky it was hard to see where they ended and the Galaxy began, but they got to work quickly. Bad and George diverged and took their bows from over their shoulders, starting to hook arrows into place with their fingers and taking aim.

Sapnap co-ordinated, yelling at the two to fire at the same time to keep them from misfiring and shooting the other. A second passed and one explosion was heard - Bad’s arrow had hit, George’s had missed. No bother, this wasn’t about going as fast as they could but as safely as they could. Bad aimed a new shot, George loaded a new arrow and adjusted the height he was shooting, and Sapnap called again. Two synchronised shots, the arrows flying through the air, two explosions. George awarded himself a small cheer, pumping his fist happily before he reached for another arrow.

“Bad, move!” Sapnap yelled. Bad heard his command and moved quickly, running forwards to cover as much ground as possible and looking back over his shoulder after a moment. As he looked, the area he had stood in became covered with a thick purple mist, the Endermen standing nearby teleporting away and screaming in pain.  _ Dragon’s Breath.  _ Sapnap ran in the opposite direction - directly towards the Breath, and as he ran he opened a bottle. Holding his own breath to try and limit his exposure he watched as the purple mist forced the oxygen out of the bottle. He felt his skin beginning to itch and his eyes watering, and as soon as he was happy with the concentration of the Breath he was quick to emerge, taking in deep breaths and reaching for a bottle of water to soothe his irritated skin. 

“You okay?” Bad called to him, Sapnap nodding hurriedly.

“Fine, aim.” He shouted back, both George and Bad doing as instructed. After a moment he called again:  _ “Fire!” _

Their arrows shot into the air. Bad’s hit, George’s didn’t. They could keep going like this, with George using up arrows without hitting anything, or they could try a different tactic. Bad wasn’t one for changing plans on the fly, but that just meant that Sapnap wouldn’t consult him.

“Bad, keep going.” He said, “George, can you climb up one of those towers? You’re not going to be able to hit with your vision. Grab a pearl and head up.”

George nodded, doing exactly as he was told. As Bad continued to shoot arrows at the End Crystals George took his shield and sword from his side, backing himself against a column and making eye contact with one of the creatures. When he looked away it didn’t charge, and he swore quietly under his breath. Whatever had come over him in the last few days - whatever meant the Endermen wouldn’t harm him - it wasn’t of any use now. He had two options, neither of them particularly welcome: try and manipulate whatever allowed him to speak with the Endermen to work now, to let him  _ ask  _ for a pearl, or to tower up to the top of the obsidian stack and take out the End Crystal without a way back down. 

He wasn’t sure why he chose the latter.

George took his pickaxe and began to scale the smallest tower, making slow progress as he struggled to have the strength in his hits to cut holes into the stone to dig his fingers into and climb. He found himself getting into a rhythm fairly quickly, the explosions of End Crystals distant as Bad continued to make good progress. 

He  _ wouldn’t  _ be useless, he  _ wouldn’t  _ be a liability, he  _ would  _ help bring Dream back. 

Despite being on the smallest tower, and despite having limited depth perception, George felt incredibly high up when he got to the top. Perhaps because he knew how it was about to go and what was going to happen to him. But he was prepared to sacrifice himself for Dream. He  _ deserved  _ to sacrifice himself for Dream, and at least there’d be a body to bring back. Maybe his friends would bring him back to life.

Maybe. They might not bother.

George used his pickaxe to break through the iron bars that caged the End Crystal before swapping for his sword, taking in a deep breath. Bad and Sapnap would surely be able to see him from where they stood given the angle, so he moved slowly to the other side of the pillar - he’d give them the blessing of not having to  _ watch _ . He knew just how painful it was, and images of Dream’s body at the bottom of the ravine pushed through the whispers that clouded his mind. 

Maybe Dream wouldn’t be angry at him for too long.

He swung his sword down quickly, his eye shut tight as the explosion rang out around him and his hearing all but vanished - a loud ringing in his ears fighting with the whispers to be heard. His body was pushed backwards with the force of the explosion, his feet losing any grip they had on the ground until there was nothing all around him in every direction. He was falling, and he wondered if this was some kind of sick poetry that the Universe was mocking him with. He had killed Dream this way, he deserved to die this way.

The pain he expected never came. He felt no shattering of his spine, no crack of his head, no twisting of his ankles. His body didn’t become a paste on the endstone and he didn’t fade out of consciousness to never recover.

“George, c’mon!” Sapnap yelled, beckoning him over. The End Crystals were destroyed, the Dragon was vulnerable, and he was standing in a confused daze at the bottom of the pillar. He couldn’t explain what happened no matter how hard he tried, it was as if he  _ had  _ thrown an ender pearl but he knew damn well that he didn’t have one.

The whispers grew in intensity but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.  _ Bring Dream back, bring Dream back _ : that would keep him going if he could just focus on Dream. 

He loved Dream, he could admit that to himself now, and his love would drive him. Maybe when Dream came back he would have the strength to say it out loud - what more did he have to lose? 

As the Dragon began to descend from the sky the three of them took out their swords and ran towards her quickly, spacing themselves out underneath her as they swung at her stomach. It was the easiest place to hit and while it was her weakest spot, her skin was still incredibly thick. Their swords took several hits to pierce her and even then the blood flow was minimal and slow, but seeing damage done to her was enough to give them hope to go on. Their bodies and minds were growing weary but they would soon be back in the Overworld, soon be back at the village, just a little while longer.

The Dragon moved to fly away. George and Sapnap had already fled but Bad - insistent on getting another hit - still remained beneath her. As she flapped her wings he was clipped, his chest plate shattering and falling to the ground as he was thrown several paces back. He landed with a groan, his elbows taking the bulk of the impact, but he refused to let it get to him. While George and Sapnap both called his name in concern he forced himself to his feet and grit his teeth, wiping away blood with the back of his hand.  _ Red blood, his blood _ . It was fine, he would be fine, everything would be just  _ fine _ .

He sheathed his sword, reaching over his shoulder to grab his bow and start firing arrows desperately at the Dragon again. He was driven utterly by rage, he had seen what had happened to his friends and he  _ refused  _ to let it happen again. Sapnap and George wouldn’t be hurt, wouldn’t be killed, not so long as he breathed. 

She let out a roar and a purple mist hurled towards Bad, who remained unmoved and simply forced himself to power through the pain to continue shooting from his vantage point. Sapnap ran to collect more of the Breath in another empty bottle and he looked to Bad while he had the chance. They’d been fighting, they were all sweating, but Bad’s forehead was drenched as he forced himself to focus. His veins were almost popping out of his head and neck as he strained, and his hands shook with pain and effort. 

“Bad, you need to stop.” Sapnap said, ignoring the pain of her Breath running through his body as he breathed it in. The man’s eyes were bloodshot and wide, and Sapnap realised his words fell on deaf ears as the Dragon began to descend once more and Bad simply reached for his sword.

They all wanted her dead, they were all desperate for this to be over, but Sapnap was terrified that something in his friend had snapped. Something had broken and it  _ couldn’t  _ end well.

He joined Bad and George beneath the Dragon again, each hitting her with their swords and listening to her pained cries. This time they could deepen their cuts and cause her to lose much more blood. The three of them became coated in the thick purple liquid, dripping from her veins onto their heads and armour, seeping through to stain their clothes. As she prepared once more to fly away - although much weaker this time and unlikely to survive another assault - Sapnap sheathed his sword and grabbed hold of Bad’s hand in an attempt to keep his friend safe. It was fruitless. Bad sheathed his own sword, taking a few steps back but reaching above him as she made her ascent. With his free hand he grabbed hold of her tail and Sapnap had to let go to save himself from being pulled up into the sky with her. He stumbled backwards, looking up and watching hopelessly.

“Bad!” George shouted, standing several feet away from Sapnap and looking just as concerned as the other man. He reached over his shoulder to grab his bow and, despite knowing he wasn’t going to be the best shot with only half his vision, he loaded an arrow. He aimed and fired, watching as the arrow arched through the sky and hit. 

Except it didn’t hit the Dragon.

Bad had just managed to right himself on the Dragon’s back and was reaching for the sword at his side when the arrow struck his chest. On its own it was enough to injure him badly, but it pushed him off balance and caused him to fall. The Dragon began to dive down again as the weight on her back disappeared and George and Sapnap grabbed their swords to finish her off. Both were very aware of the thud that Bad hit the ground with, and as they hacked away at the creature they watched intently for his chest to begin to rise and fall again. If he was breathing then that would be  _ something _ .

It didn’t happen. 

The Dragon above them screamed and somehow it seemed anticlimactic, her death instead of being a moment to rejoice and return to their home becoming one in which the two men dropped their swords and ran to Bad’s side, shouting his name in vain.

They stumbled to a halt, George’s knees buckling a few paces away and sliding to his side as Sapnap reached his arm out for his friend. His hand moved to Bad’s cheek, resting on his face and staring down into his empty, unblinking eyes. His own filled with tears, vision blurring as they quickly began to fall from his face.

“Bad,  _ please _ , you gotta wake up.” He said, his voice cracking and warbling as his hand gripped a little tighter and he felt himself trembling. Bad couldn’t be gone, not after everything he’d done to keep them safe, not after how far they’d come. This wasn’t fair, it was  _ cruel _ , and he could feel anger growing in his chest.

He might have silently blamed George for Dream’s death but he’d been able to keep the anger held behind gritted teeth, but this…  _ George had shot him _ . It was George’s arrow stuck in his bloodsoaked chest, it was George’s action that had killed him. As George leaned to reach for Bad’s body to hold anything - a hand, his shirt,  _ something  _ to feel a little more grounded - Sapnap found himself pulling Bad closer. He refused to yell, this was not the time to yell, but he huddled his own body around Bad protectively and refused to let George have any kind of contact with him. He’d already killed the man - what  _ more  _ damage could he do?

“We can bring him back.” George said quietly, his fingers trembling as he scratched at the endstone beneath them. Without being able to hold Bad’s body he felt utterly lost, he felt sick, and the whispers in his head grew louder still. He tried to convince himself that there was something they could do - they could get another Ghast Tear and make another potion, and with the beacon they could bring both Bad and Dream back to life.

He really  _ would  _ have to leave when everything was fixed.

Sapnap had been reduced quickly to pained sobs, rocking himself back and forth on his heels as he held Bad close to him. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mourning the man that had practically become his brother, he trembled.

“ _ Please come back _ .” He whispered, his voice broken and muffled. “Please, Bad please… You have to come back.” And then, just as quietly, a plea to the Universe. “Take me instead,  _ please _ .”

“We should go.” George said quietly, blinking as tears began to fall from his eye. It hurt to cry, in a different way than it had hurt when he’d lost Dream. 

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell me what to do.” Sapnap hissed, looking up from Bad’s body to drive home the venom behind his words. There was no warmth, no love, nothing that even  _ resembled  _ friendship between them anymore. George was silent, taking a step back: he’d done this damage and it was irreversible. But Sapnap still got to his feet, struggling to carry Bad with one arm but  _ refusing  _ to let George anywhere near his body. The bedrock ground at the centre of the island had opened up to reveal a new portal - their way home - and Sapnap took himself and Bad’s body through without waiting even a second for George.

George followed several paces behind, afraid of what would happen when they returned to the Overworld. Maybe Sapnap would decide he was too dangerous to keep around, maybe he would kill him, maybe the man that had told them about the potion would be there to tell them it was utter  _ bullshit _ and that they’d just wasted a life and their bodies for  _ nothing _ . He was too disheartened to believe that there could be anything other than darkness on the other side of the portal.

He waited for a few short moments, staring at the egg left by the Dragon. In a few months a new Dragon would hatch, and in another life that would have meant they could prepare for another game.

_ Never again. _

# # #

George awoke in a strange world. Before him he saw vast meadows of land, the green clear and radiant, trees swaying in the breeze and sunlight streaking down through the leaves. The ground looked like water, as if it were alive. He looked behind him and he saw Hell. Fire, lava,  _ anger _ . He saw Dream and Bad, their bodies half decomposed and broken. They looked at him with rage,  _ he had done this to them _ .

“I haven’t--” He started, though he didn’t know quite who he was replying to. 

_ He was being hunted _ .

He blinked and he was running, his mind focused on finding shelter, finding a place of safety to hide. He held a sword, and suddenly he was fighting - though he couldn’t see any enemies.

“I love you, George.”

“Dream?”

George turned around, but there was nothing behind him. Nothing but stars, blackness, as if Dream was the Universe itself telling him that he was loved. But the Universe wasn’t that kind, it couldn’t be. If the Universe was kind he wouldn’t be in this place - wherever this place was. His friends wouldn’t be dead, he wouldn’t be so lost.

“The world you take for truth is merely---”

George turned around again. He was in a void, there was nothing and no one and he wasn’t breathing, but it didn’t  _ hurt _ . He didn’t understand, but he wasn’t panicking. Not understanding almost felt like a blessing, a comfort. 

“Take a breath, now.” The voice was no longer Dream’s, it was no longer a voice. It was all in his head, the whispers becoming something he could decipher. “Take another. Feel the air in your lungs.” George closed his eye, the action an impulse that he didn’t know the driver of. “Yes, move your fingers.” He did as the voice told him - the dozens of whispers in his head now one. “Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Return to the long dream.”

# # #

“George!”

He sat upright suddenly, the world around him no longer filled with colour, his body aching and tired, the whispers garbled nonsense. It took him a moment to reorient himself, to understand where he was, and he saw Sapnap leaning over his body. The man was distraught, his cheeks wet from crying and his eyes bloodshot as he wrapped his arm around George as tightly as possible.

“I thought you-- I thought--”

“Sapnap…” George whispered, his arms moving to hold the younger man as tightly as he could. He whimpered in his embrace, letting out a dry sob. “I don’t understand.”

“You were unconscious when you came through the portal.” He whispered into his shoulder, squeezing just a bit tighter. “I thought you were dead too. You’ve just been lying here for hours.”

George didn’t know what to say. What  _ was  _ there to say? His body felt weak and the world they were in felt unfamiliar and terrifying. Without Bad’s comforting words or support, without Dream’s laughter, everything felt empty. Desperation drove the two of them back together and in the field a short way from the village where their journey had begun they clung tightly to each other’s body, cries of relief, terror and sadness filling the silence between them.

Their journey was still far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i began to proof read this as soon as i finished writing it & i swear i got whiplash from how different the beginning & the end of this chapter is
> 
> please submit your injury lawsuits in the comments below :D


	9. A Plea & A Choice

The walk back into the village with Bad’s body was quiet as the tension between the two survivors quickly grew once the joy of realising they weren’t utterly alone had subsided. Sapnap carried Bad again, making his way toward the settlement several steps ahead of George. His anger towards George had begun to bubble again, and he was finding it harder and harder to bite his tongue. George, to his credit, could sense that and remained thoroughly lost in his own thoughts. He found himself staring at his hands, watching them closely as if they were changing in front of him. But they weren’t,  _ nothing  _ was physically changing, and he almost wished it was. He could tell that something inside of him had shifted but without any observable change he had no way of knowing what that was.

The sun had set on the pair as they arrived, feet heavy on the cobblestone path that twisted through the buildings around them. Even as lanterns shone down, the streets felt cold, dark and empty: everything did now.

“They’re back.” Someone said, a few paces behind George and Sapnap, and neither man bothered to turn around and acknowledge them. Whispers began quickly, with people soon recognising that something awful had happened. The death of another young man was troubling, and while it could have been a coincidence once there was a sense that a second death in such a short space of time meant something else - something more serious, more sinister. People were beginning to realise that their lives may not be as safe as they had been before.

In the centre of the village Sapnap stopped, laying Bad’s body gently on the ground before jumping up onto a small stone platform. He grabbed at a rope that hung beside the bell and pulled roughly, the clapper striking loudly and gathering attention from everyone with ease. George found himself standing with the small crowd that gathered around Sapnap: the other man was a natural leader, he was charismatic, and he had one goal in mind but George was distracted and didn’t know what he was planning. 

As the crowd increased in size, Sapnap took in a deep breath and called out with as much strength as he could.

“My two best friends are dead.” He said solemnly, looking at George directly for a long moment before breaking away and addressing the others that had gathered around them. “And all of our lives are in danger. Something has happened and I don’t know what, or how to explain it, but I’m doing my best to fix it and I need help.” His impassioned pleas had the villagers listening, and as he jumped down from the small rise he stood on, knees bending a little as he landed, he began to mingle with them: placing his hand on a young woman’s shoulder; walking past her and smiling to a small child that clung to their father’s leg. “Our world has changed, death from illness and injury is a reality now, every day could be our last and we would never wake up again. But we can fix this, all of us, together.”

The crowd was silent, partly from disbelief and partly from shock as they tried to process the information they were being given.

“We need to build a beacon, we need as much iron as you have to spare. With the help of an ancient potion, it will be enough to bring our friends back from the dead - a potion we can recreate to save as many people as we need. With a beacon, we can overcome this fate. We don’t need to let the Universe tell us what to do or how to live. The laws of life have tightened around us, but they’re there to be broken if we just work together.”

Sapnap looked around him, expecting some kind of rallying cry from the people, but was met with defeated faces.

“Why should we trust you?” One man asked, and the crowd were quick to agree with him. Sapnap suddenly felt very exposed, not having anything to offer them. He had assumed that they would have agreed with him immediately, having to prove the deaths of Dream and Bad and prove that he was a trustworthy person hadn’t been part of his plan (although, he hadn’t had much of a plan going into this anyway).

“Because these men are our prophecy.” 

Sapnap looked up, his head turning with the rest of the villagers to look at the cleric standing beside the bell. The man scanned the crowd slowly, his eyes settling on George and offering a gentle smile to try and reassure the dazed man. 

“Our Gods have long predicted this day, this tale has been prophesied, and the Lost One stands among us. He will save us all, but we must work together to make that possible.”

George felt his breath quicken at the cleric’s words, the whispers in his mind enveloping him once more and holding him close. He felt trapped and panicked, the weight of expectation hanging over his shoulders, and the older man moved towards him to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“You’ll do just fine.” He promised, his hand squeezing tightly before he turned his attention back to the crowd. “You heard that man, whatever iron you have. This beacon has to be built, our path is clear ahead, we know what we must do and we must place our trust in these men that have been delivered to us. Go, bring what you already have to the church and search for as much more as you can.”

As the crowd began to disperse, trusting Sapnap’s request much more now that it had been endorsed by the cleric, the three of them were left standing together. 

“Bring your friend with us. His body will be safe here.”

With that the cleric turned, beginning to make his way back to the church. Sapnap moved to pick up Bad’s body once more, wordlessly leaving George as he followed in the footsteps of the cleric. George’s shoulders fell at his sides, shifting his rucksack on his back as he walked quickly to try and catch up, although even as he stood at Sapnap’s side the distance between them only seemed to grow.

The church was cold and dark when they entered, the cleric busied himself wandering up and down the pews to light candles to illuminate the building as much as he could. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows and cast a soft image onto the ground, too hazy to be truly understood. As Sapnap took Bad’s body to rest it beside Dream’s, George tried to decipher the story being told. The colours were vibrant, though he couldn’t see them, but the cleric took pity on him and began to speak.

“That is your story, Lost One.” He said softly, quiet enough that Sapnap couldn’t hear despite the reverberation in the hall. “It is only just beginning. You have much more about yourself to discover, you are not what you think.”

“But… I am?” George replied quietly, although after the events of the last few days it was more of a question than a statement. Footsteps from behind indicated that Sapnap was rejoining the group and the cleric brought a finger to his lips to end the conversation - though George wasn’t done asking him questions.

“Who are you?” Sapnap asked. “Please, explain  _ something  _ because Dream and Bad are dead, George’s lost his eye and I’ve only got one arm. What’s going on? And don’t give me any spiritual bullshit, I want  _ answers _ .”

“Sapnap--” George held out a hand, trying to calm him down, but Sapnap only seemed to double down on his anger.

“Don’t you want to know too, George?! We’re owed that much, surely! Look at what we’ve been through and for  _ what _ , and we’re still supposed to fight a Wither to make a beacon? We need to know what’s happening before we do anything else.” Sapnap demanded, George feeling his knees buckling beneath him and sinking to sit on a pew. The cleric seemed unphased by Sapnap’s anger, gesturing for him to sit with George as he began to speak.

“I will answer as much as I can, but I am living this story just as you are.” He said honestly, sitting himself down and letting one hand wrap around his necklace for a moment before continuing. “My name is Illumina, I am the cleric for our village. You, George, are the Lost One. A man prophesied by the Gods to save us all.”

“Save from what?” George asked. “What about Sapnap, what about our friends? What does the prophecy say about them?”

“The four of you will do a great many things for our village and for our world.” Illumina said, and both George and Sapnap relaxed at that.  _ The four of them _ , surely that meant they brought Dream and Bad back without too much difficulty. “You are heroes, you will be remembered.”

“Can you tell us what we do?” Sapnap asked. He’d calmed down somewhat from before, but was still eager for answers. “Or how to do it, we have to fight a Wither, surely that’s going to kill the two of us. I mean, look at us.” He said offhandedly, gesturing to themselves. “There’s barely a full person between us.”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you.” Illumina said simply. “The prophecy is not that clear, there are many questions yet to be answered, but the storm was the start of it all - something  _ big  _ is coming from the shadows, something we cannot face alone. We require your help, but we will do what we can to support you.”

Sapnap closed his eyes for a moment, realising that answers weren’t going to be given to him in a direct fashion. He wanted to push further but, given how exhausted he was, the cleric’s refusal to give a straight answer was enough for him to give up. Instead he stood up again, moving past George.

“I’m going to find us a place to stay for the night, we’ll head back to the Nether in the morning.”

His voice was flat, defeated, and he didn’t wait for George’s response before heading for the exit. As soon as he had left and the doors closed behind him Illumina smiled. 

“Why are you smiling?” George asked quietly, his hands neatly laid in his lap as his fingers wound together with nerves. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, I can help you to understand.”

“Something’s… Happening to me.” George said. The fact that he could finally talk to  _ someone  _ about the events of the last few days was a relief, and he found words coming to him faster than he could speak them. “There’s whispers in my head, and Endermen don’t attack me - they  _ help  _ me. They gave me their pearls, it was like I could speak to them. I could find the portal to the End without using an Eye of Ender and when I fell from a tower without a pearl I… I teleported. I landed without hurting myself at all. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” He said. The question remained unasked - a request for an explanation - but George was almost too afraid of what he would be told to dare to ask. Illumina stood from the pew and began to walk towards the altar, gesturing silently for George to follow him. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet room, candle flames flickering around them. 

“Take this.” Illumina said, taking a small book from beneath the altar and handing it to George. “Turn to any page you wish, read it for me.”

George took the book warily, opening it slowly and fingering the pages until he found a place satisfyingly deep within the book to begin to read from. He glanced at the top left corner of the page, searching for the start of a sentence.

“His life was an experiment, but the experiment worked far better than they had expected. He became like them, yet was too unlike them to remain. Cast aside, his true heritage taken from him, he was left alone and for dead. Yet the Gods decided that this experiment should live, that the gifts bestowed upon him were too valuable to be lost, and so the experiment survived. He was found by a family who took him in as their own, who raised him with no mention of how he had been abandoned. He was their son, and he remained oblivious to the truth.”

Illumina chuckled to himself lightly, taking the book away from George as he finished the passage. George, utterly devoid of understanding, simply watched as the cleric removed the glasses from his nose and gestured to the paper in front of him.

“I cannot read this any longer.” He said. “The words are written in the old language, the glasses allow me to read it but without them it may as well be hieroglyphics. But you have no issue with reading it.”

“The library in the Stronghold… I could read the books there. Bad and Sapnap were just flicking through--”

“Also written in the old tongue.” Illumina nodded. 

“What… What  _ am  _ I?” George asked quietly, and Illumina smiled once more. He was almost there, he almost understood.

“You already know the answer, Lost One. You do not need to ask that from me.”

“Say it.” George said, swallowing as he felt desperation rising in his throat. He was terrified at the thought in his mind, he needed to hear it from someone else. “Please,  _ say it _ .”

There was a long moment of silence between the two, a breeze moving through the church and extinguishing the flames around them before the cleric spoke.

“You  _ are  _ the experiment.”

# # #

Sapnap had a drink when he’d returned to the pub to pay for a room for the night, but the man was kind enough to allow him and George lodgings for free. If the two truly were a prophecy then they deserved that as the very least. Sapnap had thanked him and had been left to drink alone, his mind mulling over everything that had happened.

He decided he was  _ furious  _ with George. 

Killing Dream had been an accident - any of them could have done it - but only George had been stupid enough to fire an arrow at the Ender Dragon. George had killed Bad, and if they weren’t preparing to fight the Wither then Sapnap might have considered killing George. Whatever this  _ Lost One  _ bullshit was, Sapnap didn’t care for it, and he was certain that whatever this prophecy said George would do, he could do just as well. Hell, he could do it without killing the rest of the group.

By the time he left the pub his fist was balled up at his side and he stormed back to the bunkhouse, ignoring the fragile figure tucked under the blankets of the lower bunk, not wanting to speak to George for a moment longer than he had to. As he sunk down onto his own bed for the night he felt his worries and anger dissipate, and the soft mattress after such a long and treacherous week was a wonderful feeling. His muscles relaxed and his pain began to melt away, and for the first time since this had all begun he felt as if he could sleep comfortably.

He didn’t wake up during the night when the door to the bunkhouse opened and George crawled into bed, moving his pillows out from under his sheets to slip in and fall asleep himself. The two men slept in long past sunrise, both desperate for rest and their bodies taking this time to heal as much as they could before they forced themselves to continue with their adventure once more.

George woke up first, his sleep much lighter and more fitful than Sapnap’s, and he stripped his bedsheets and readied himself for the day silently before waking up his friend. As Sapnap began to prepare himself, George left to bring them both food. The atmosphere between them was still tense and it seemed that the less words spoken, the better. If they remained silent, they couldn’t say anything that they’d regret. 

The sun had travelled past its peak in the sky by the time they began on their journey, quickly making a beeline for the mountains they had ascended just a few days before with Bad. His absence was noticeable as they climbed, both the moral support he had provided and physical, as they struggled with a particularly steep section on the way up to the bealach. It was utterly impossible for Sapnap to avoid casting a glance over to the cliffs of the mountains, scanning them for iron. It wouldn’t help now, but maybe a few nights ago it would have done - maybe they’d left some behind that could’ve been easily obtained. He couldn’t see anything exposed, and that almost made things a little easier for him. He felt less to blame for the whole situation they were in now - he could shove blame entirely onto George.

Climbing down on the other side of the mountain was exhausting, their legs heavy and begging for another good night’s rest, but they pushed on towards the portal. It was a little way underground, but the familiar heat of lava and the hums of the portal reminded them exactly where they needed to go. Standing at the frame once more felt wrong. Bad wasn’t there to say a fond farewell, and neither Sapnap nor George were prepared to call each other family again. There was no heartfelt goodbye, no  _ for Dream  _ as they silently stepped through and prayed that the Pigmen had forgiven them for their past transgressions.

They had. And the relief that flooded over the two of them was palpable but short-lived. Now that they were in the Nether they were faced with the reality of their task.

Three Wither skulls. Understandably, Sapnap found himself reserved at the idea of returning to the Fortress, and George wasn’t particularly keen to start walking either. Fighting back the sickness in his stomach, George began to dress himself in his armour and Sapnap followed suit.

“We’ll get the Wither skulls first.” George said. More Ghast tears would be easy compared to beheading three Wither’s and retreating unharmed. “Are you ready?”

“God no.” Sapnap breathed, letting a nervous laugh roll off his lips. “But if it helps, they can’t chop my arm off again.”

“You’ve got another arm, Sapnap.” George replied, his voice deadpan and much more detached than it would usually have been. “They can still do a lot of damage to you. Just keep watch, don’t get yourself into a situation you can’t get yourself out of.”

Sapnap nodded, and once the two of them were suitably geared up they followed their path carved out a few days ago back to the Fortress. Their hands were already sweating, Sapnap’s sword slipping out of his grip on several occasions as they approached the deep purple walls and began to search for a way in. 

George went first, his shield out in front of them as they crept slowly and silently through the corridors. They could hear death from every angle, the clattering of Wither Skeletons’ bones and the heavy breathing that followed Blazes - Pigmen patrolled their path and, while none made a move to attack them, eyed them both curiously. It didn’t take long before they spotted a Wither on its own - and it spotted them at the same time.

“George, move back!” Sapnap called as the monster rushed towards them. It raised its sword to strike, George holding out his shield as Sapnap moved to counter. The blades hit with a clang, and the two were quickly engaged in their fight. Metal against metal hit time and time again, and Sapnap grunted as he dodged the blade as the Wither lunged towards him. “Take your time!” He called breathlessly, George moving behind to get the best angle he could for the cut. 

“Excuse me if I want to get this right.” He said, raising the sword before bringing it back down quickly as he struck. It was difficult to keep his aim level but the cut through the neck had proven successful and the Wither fell to the ground. It was dead, and its head rolled towards Sapnap’s feet in a way that he could have almost joked about if the seriousness of the situation didn’t still weigh on their shoulders. He ran string loosely through the eye sockets of the skull and tied it to his belt, before the two of them continued on their quest.

They resumed at a slow pace, not wanting to jeopardize themselves for the sake of speed even as they found that they were growing tired and the weight of their rucksacks was becoming heavy. A second Wither was found and executed quickly, but finding a third lone Wither was proving difficult. There were plenty in pairs or in groups, but Sapnap and George had agreed that engaging with them was far too difficult given the situation they were in. George had to compensate for his vision when lining up his swing and Sapnap didn’t have a second hand to hold a shield in as he distracted the monsters, they had to take it slowly. 

“I can hear something beneath us.” Sapnap said. George stopped in his tracks to listen, and sure enough he too could hear the familiar sound of bones rattling. It was faint, perhaps it was a few floors beneath them, but it was  _ alone _ . 

“I’ll keep watch.” George said, holding up his shield a little as if to explain why. “Chip away at the floor, get us down as quick as you can.”

Sapnap nodded, not saying another word as he sheathed his sword and took his pick from his side, beginning to shatter the bricks beneath their feet and make a way for them to quickly descend through the floors. George paced a short way down the corridor, checking at a junction for any dangers in other directions. As far as he could see there was nothing, and he was relieved that for once the Nether was being kind to them.

But when did that ever last for long?

“ **_GEORGE!_ ** ”

Sapnap’s scream caused George’s head to snap back around, looking at the man desperately as he tried to figure out why he had shouted.

The brick floor had crumbled beneath him as he’d been hitting it with his pick, and he now clung desperately to the remains in the hopes that he wouldn’t fall. His breathing was shallow and quick, his eyes wide with fear as he looked to George hopelessly. As he dangled, his body still swinging back and forth over the lava below, he could feel his rucksack pulling away from his shoulders. The Wither skulls were tied to his belt but his rucksack had…

“I’ve got you.” George said, returning carefully and grabbing a tight hold of Sapnap’s wrist, beginning to pull the other man up from where he hanged. Sapnap let go of the Fortress, his fingers wrapping around George’s arm to secure himself a little better. He tried to ignore the way that bricks were continuing to collapse around the two of them, hearing them hitting the lava seconds later and followed by the terrifying sound of sizzling and popping from below, but he couldn’t ignore the way that his bag was falling from him. 

“George,  _ hurry! _ ” He said quickly. Trying to shimmy himself up further only had more of the structure breaking away and so he stopped, letting George pull him up at his own pace, but it wasn’t quite enough. The bag was slipping and, under the weight of everything it was carrying, the strap snapped. 

In the split second that followed George leaned forwards, his other arm reaching forward to grab the bag but only catching the cork of a bottle. The bag, and everything in it, fell to a fiery death and George placed the one bottle he’d managed to grab beside him, his other hand then moving to grab Sapnap once more and pull him to safety. As the floor disappeared beneath their feet the two ran, sprinting until they found a staircase to take them up another floor. 

Once the pair of them felt safe they stopped, catching their breath and taking in what had happened.

“Your bag--”

“What?!  _ George!  _ I almost fell, I would’ve died!”

“Your  _ bag _ , Sapnap!” George spat, the words coming out forcefully. He showed the bottle he’d retrieved to Sapnap, shoving it in his face as anger completely encapsulated him. “Had the  _ other bottle of Dragon’s Breath _ .”

There was a moment of silence, of realisation and regret as Sapnap understood what that meant.

One potion.

They could make  _ one  _ potion.

Dream and Bad were both dead.

“You  _ told me  _ to dig down!” Sapnap accused, taking a step back as his anger began to surge. “ _ You  _ are the reason Dream is dead,  _ you  _ killed Bad with your own arrow, don’t try to pin this all on me!”

“I told Bad we should’ve killed you.” George snapped back immediately, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword as fury and adrenaline fuelled him. “If you were dead, Bad and I could’ve done this without you.”

“You wanted to kill me?!” Sapnap scoffed, his own hand moving to his sword and drawing it angrily. “You  _ still  _ want to kill me. Were Bad and Dream not enough? How many more people are you going to kill before you stop?”

Without waiting for a reply, Sapnap raised his sword and swung down quickly, anger driving the hit. His sword bounced against George’s shield and he growled, the older man throwing the shield aside in favour of attacking Sapnap in return. He clenched his teeth together, letting out a scream as his own blade came hurtling down. Sapnap met it in the middle, metal edges grinding against each other desperately as neither man wanted to break the position they found themselves in.

With a grunt, George pushed his sword down further and managed to push Sapnap off balance, quickly starting to run away from the younger man. He could do this himself, he didn’t  _ need  _ Sapnap anymore, and he’d be damned if he let the other slow him down any longer.

Sapnap followed him closely, yelling his name and cursing at him. As the corridor they were in opened out into a bridge things became much more dangerous, and the pair had to dodge fireballs from stray Blazes and arrows from Skeletons as they ran. The bridge, however, came to an abrupt halt and George skidded to a stop a little way from the edge. He looked down - it was a jump that Sapnap would struggle to make but maybe,  _ just maybe _ , he could find a way down himself. He didn’t have time to test his abilities, however, when Sapnap was practically on top of him once more. He lunged forward with his sword, aiming directly for George’s stomach without any remorse, and George barely managed to jump out of the way in time. His armour would protect him to some extent, but there was no way that Sapnap wouldn’t have hurt him if he hadn’t moved.

“You killed our friends!” Sapnap shouted. “Don’t be a coward,  _ die like you deserve! _ ”

The words caught George by surprise, but they were said with such venom and spite that he didn’t for a moment believe them to be anything but true. He brought his sword back to parry with Sapnap, trying to cause him to lose his balance again. Out in the open it would be much more fatal. 

“I should’ve ignored Bad, I should’ve killed you when you slept. I should’ve grabbed the bag instead of you. I could’ve brought Dream  _ and  _ Bad back and left you to burn alive in the lava. You’re  _ nothing _ , you’re  _ useless _ .” 

Something began to creep over George then, his anger seemed to grow beyond white-hot into something else, something more intense and something he couldn’t quite define, but the surge of brought a new power behind his hits and he managed to back Sapnap up further against the waist high wall that stood between them and the lava below. 

Sapnap stumbled as his body hit the bricks, his legs buckling beneath him as he felt himself pinned, and his sword fell from his hand and onto the ground beneath him. George simply kicked it off the side with his foot, and Sapnap found his anger evaporate. It was replaced with terror, and while he didn’t regret the words he had said he found himself grappling with what they had done to George. This wasn’t his friend, no matter how angry they ever became with each other  _ this  _ wasn’t a scenario that had ever crossed his mind.

“George,  _ please _ .” He begged, his body shaking under the hold of the other. “You’re my brother,  _ please don’t do this _ .”

He was trembling, tears filling his eyes and spilling from his cheeks as he watched George raise his sword. This wasn’t how he’d expected to go - though he’d never really taken time to picture it in too much detail - and he closed his eyes. He wouldn’t give George the satisfaction of seeing the fear in him when he was killed.

Sapnap never felt the blade hit his body.

George groaned, pushing the man back forcefully and turning instead to behead an approaching Wither Skeleton. He didn’t take time to line up his sword, but rage drove him into a perfect swing and the head fell off neatly, skull landing at his feet. He looked back to Sapnap, who stood afraid with his eyes now open as he processed the very fact that he was still alive, and nodded his head to the side. They could gather soul sand on their return to the portal to the overworld. Sapnap was no longer any kind of threat to George’s life and he could be of some use for a little while longer.

They walked silently back. The strange surge of anger that had filled George soon faded away into nothing. It left him feeling empty, yet full of guilt. But as he felt a tear come to his eye he felt a stinging sensation, and so he took in a deep breath and pushed his emotions aside.

Kill the Wither, bring back Dream. 

This journey was almost done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL HELLO THERE
> 
> this bitch is alive, this bitch has gallstones & had jaundice (but apparently my last blood tests showed no jaundice so yay!). i'm scheduled for an operation to remove my gallbladder on august 4th but i'm still utterly exhausted even if i'm not in pain anymore (who knew that ignoring your emotions was such an energy consuming task). fingers crossed i'll have everything posted before i'm in hospital again but who knows, i'm not going to push myself to update as regularly as i have been (hence i'm leaving the author's note up in the last chapter for now, just so people are aware of the situation). thank you so much to everyone that gave me kind words, they were hugely appreciated. like i said i was sitting in hospital when i posted that and having a few people online wish me well was such a brilliant comfort, i'm honoured to have such kind readers as all of you <3
> 
> that said, sorry about that chapter! as kind as you all are, you're free to yell at me again in the comments below :D


	10. The Beginning? & The Battle

With soul sand in George’s rucksack and Wither skulls dangling from Sapnap’s waist, the two appeared once more in the overworld. They had safely returned to the original portal and day was just beginning to break. Rather than rest, they planned to return to the village and spend another night there, although that wasn’t something that had been explicitly communicated between the two. It had been decided silently, Sapnap now taking a back foot from George as he realised that something was wrong with his friend. None of his behaviour was like him and he was becoming more and more concerned that whatever it was, he was too far gone to be saved.

But what would Bad and Dream say if Sapnap gave up on him?

They scaled the mountain slowly, their bodies now desperate to rest, and as the warm autumnal sun hit the backs of their necks they yawned. The wind blew gently around them, the world was lulling them towards sleep, but neither could forget about the hell that awaited them. This was the calm before the storm: before long they would summon a Wither and this peaceful village and the world that surrounded it would be torn apart. 

As they reached the edge of the village George split from the path and Sapnap stood where he was, watching the other cross to the river and kneel down. He could see George holding out his hand timidly, and could only wonder what was going through his mind as he reached towards the water.

His fingers touched the surface, sending ripples out in all directions, and he held his hand there for a long moment. When he pulled it back he did so quickly, shaking his fingers and wiping them dry swiftly on his clothes, before looking at his own reflection as the water began to settle once more. Sapnap wanted to ask a number of questions, wanted to know  _ why  _ he was acting in such a way, but he gave him space and refrained from bringing any attention to himself. George needed a moment, and so Sapnap could give him one.

When he returned to the path he pulled his hood up, retreating somewhat into shadow it cast over him and silently passing Sapnap. He could tell that something was wrong, but George gave him no chance to ask as he began to walk directly towards the centre of the village.

The streets weren’t bustling as they usually were - normally full with people going about their lives - instead people had organised themselves to find the iron needed for the beacon to be constructed. A number of men and women toiled in the blacksmiths, smelting down the metal that had been brought to them and shaping it into dense cubes. George and Sapnap passed them by, walking down one of the quieter side streets as George searched for somewhere quiet the two of them could speak privately. They settled on a small cafe, finding a table tucked away in the corner to sit in, and allowed themselves the luxury of warm food and drink. 

“How are we going to do this?” Sapnap asked, deciding that focusing on the task at hand - fighting and killing the Wither - would be easier than discussing what was wrong with George, or what had happened between them in the Nether. Those conversations could happen once their friends were back to life and they had time to sensibly process their emotions. For now, George wrapped his hands around his mug, deep in thought for a long few moments before he spoke.

“I’ll fight it.” He said. “As much as I can, I’ll fight it. You can keep the villagers safe. We’ll summon it far away from the people but there’s no telling what it will do.”

Sapnap watched him for a moment, waiting for George to laugh and smile like he always did, but it never came. Sapnap’s lips twisted into a half smirk and he raised an eyebrow.

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” He asked. “You’re not going to take on a Wither alone, George.”

“Yes, I am.” He replied stubbornly. “You can’t defend yourself and fight, if you’re there with me I’ll spend the whole time  _ worrying  _ that you’re in danger and it’s going to put me at more of a risk. We can’t afford to die now, once we’ve done this we can bring Dream back.”

“What?” Sapnap scoffed, stumbling over his words as his mind fought to catch up with everything that George had said. The man had almost killed him at his own hand in the Nether, how was he supposed to believe that George would be worrying over his life now? And while this whole adventure had begun with the intentions of bringing Dream back, Sapnap couldn’t help the pit in his stomach that grew as George seemed to dismiss any idea of bringing Bad back to life. They could find another way to bring one of their friends back, maybe they didn’t have to choose, but if they did then Sapnap sure as hell wasn’t going to let Bad slip away from them without a fight.

“You aren’t going to argue with me on this, Sapnap.” 

George’s voice was cold, and Sapnap couldn’t help but admit that he was right. He could tell from his tone that this wasn’t an argument he could win, but he didn’t have to. In the midst of it all, George would be unable to really  _ stop him  _ from joining in the fight. Right? Whatever had happened to this world, whatever had changed in his friend, it didn’t give him powers like that.

“Then it’s settled.” He said. “We’ll summon the Wither, you’ll protect the village, I’ll kill the creature and we’ll make a beacon. Once it’s all over, we can brew the potion we need and bring Dream back.”

Sapnap bit his tongue, remaining quiet as George stood from the table they sat at and took a few emeralds from his pocket to give to the owner on his way out. Being so close to the end felt anticlimactic now that he knew someone would still be missing from their group, that their work would be far from over, and that there was something far bigger still to come. He sat for a few minutes longer before standing up himself, thanking the staff before leaving to head towards the bunkhouse. Whether George had returned there himself or not, he didn’t care. He was exhausted, he needed desperately to rest. The bed was warm and welcoming, and his eyes were closed before his head had even hit the pillow. As the sun began to set he drifted into unconsciousness and slept long and easy.

# # #

George left his belongings in the bunkhouse, before immediately leaving again to journey once more to the church. The next time he visited it would be with a potion, a way to bring Dream back, but before the last step of their plan he needed to see him again. This was what this had all been for, and with the way that his life had changed around him he felt as though he had lost sight of what mattered. 

_ Dream mattered _ .

“Hello?” George called out into the church, his voice echoing through the empty building. “Illumina? Are you here?”

Closing the door behind him softly he felt a chill run down his spine, but when no reply was given he decided that he was alone and walked slowly up the aisle. From a distance he could see both Dream and Bad’s bodies, both kept cool to keep them from decomposing as they waited to be brought back to life. As he neared it became easier to see their features, and George forced himself to focus on Dream. 

He still looked as gentle as he had done a matter of days ago, though his skin was much paler and his eyes more sunken than before. His body had lost the life that had once filled it - both physically and metaphorically - and as George sat himself beside Dream and reached out with a hand to touch his cheek he swallowed. It was almost as if he was asleep, but George knew that wasn’t the case and his fingers brushed his skin carefully. The dirt and blood from days gone by flaked onto Dream’s face and George felt a small chuckle rise from his chest. He could imagine the jokes Dream would make, the playful banter and the gentle bullying. 

“I’ll bring you back, Dream. I promise. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll bring you back.”

George felt tears brimming once more and, despite the stinging pain that accompanied them, he let them fall. Sniffling, George let a smile fill his face.

“I wish you’d let me see your face before all of this, Dream.” He said quietly, as if the man could hear him. “You’re so much more beautiful than I’d ever imagined, maybe if I’d known that I’d have realised sooner that I was in love with you. Maybe I could’ve told you. Maybe everything could’ve been different.” He whispered, his fingers brushing back and forth against his cheek. “When you wake up, things will have changed. The world you’re coming back to isn’t the one you left and I’m not sure I can be here when it happens. Something’s happened to me and I don’t understand it, I’m not sure I can control it, I don’t think I’m safe to be with you all now. So I won’t tell you any of this to your face, but maybe part of you can still hear what I’m saying. Maybe when you wake up you’ll know… You don’t have to feel the same way, just know that I love you.”

With his free hand he rubbed at the tears on his face, drying his cheeks to try and lessen the itching sensation he felt, before he leaned over to press a kiss to Dream’s forehead. It was something he’d probably never have the chance to do again, but for now he selfishly took the opportunity given to him. 

Bringing Dream back was what this had all been about, but keeping him safe after was just as important. If he truly was a monster, if he  _ was  _ this experiment that had been prophesied about, then that could mean nothing good. The cleric may call him a hero, but the prophecy had been unclear, maybe he would turn out to be the complete opposite.

Standing once more, George felt his body sag under the weight of his thoughts, and he trudged away from Dream’s side to sit in one of the pews of the church. It was peaceful there, and he could let himself think. He closed his eye to avoid looking at Bad, not wanting to admit his fault in killing the man and now refusing to bring him back. For the first time in his life, he found himself clasping his hands together tightly and sucking in a breath as he began to pray.

“I don’t know if there is a God.” He said softly. “Or a lot of Gods, I suppose if this prophecy is real then there must be something or someone… But if you can hear me I want you to…”

George trailed off. What did he want? For his friends to be okay? To no longer be this half man? To wake up from it all like it had been nothing more than a bad dream? He lowered his head with a heavy exhale and squeezed his eye shut a little tighter, his hands coming up to his forehead as he leaned on himself.

“I want things to be okay.” He said quietly. “I want to know what to do next, to understand what I am and  _ why  _ I am. Whatever this prophecy is, I want to know how it ends. I can’t see what to do next… I need something to guide me. Please.”

George didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he raised his head and opened his eye, but there was nothing. Nothing changed, nothing was different, there was no heavenly spirit standing before him with a to-do list and spreadsheet that would lead him through the next steps of his story. He was alone, Bad and Dream remained dead, and he didn’t wake up. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand and swallowed the painful emptiness that clung to him as he stood up, trying to ignore the bubbling desire to have the Wither kill him and free him of what felt like misplaced obligations he had been given. Casting a cursory glance to his friends again before leaving he sighed.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t save both of you.”

He turned his back on the pair of them, and despite the fact that it was their corpses that lay behind him he couldn’t help but feel their judgemental eyes watching him as he walked. 

George found his bed with much the same attitude as Sapnap did. Collapsing, eagerly awaiting the soft sheets beneath him and forgetting to bother even for a moment to change his clothes. Once they had fought the Wither he felt as if he could sleep for a year without question. His sleep, however, was plagued with whispers and visions - images he couldn’t put together in a clear strand to form one cohesive dream, but flashes of light and darkness, of life and death, of the battle still to come. It would all be over soon, and that promise was all that kept him asleep.

# # # 

The pair stepped out of the bunkhouse early in the morning with a bag full of soul sand and three Wither skulls. George was dressed in his armour, carrying his sword and his shield, with his bow on his back and a few dozen arrows to shoot. They had made their way out silently and as early as possible, knowing that there was no real reason to delay the inevitable. There was no conversation, no good luck, nothing to suggest that the two men wandering into the field were little more than acquaintances. The history between them, the years they’d spent together, had vanished in the blink of an eye. Now they worked in an uncomfortable alliance to bring their friend home, with the argument of  _ who  _ to bring back lingering on the horizon.

Sapnap helped George to construct the body of the Wither, the thick sand supporting itself in a way that almost defied the laws of physics. He added two of the skulls to the top of the sand, the third resting in George’s hand.

“Are you ready to do this?” He asked, and George swallowed.

“As I’ll ever be.” Came his reply. Sapnap nodded, asking nothing else of him. He knew his position - protect the village - but he could make his way back to George once the people were safe. He wouldn’t leave him alone to fight this beast, he’d never make it out alive if he tried.

Without another word he turned and began to walk away, and George watched him go until his body began to mesh with the horizon and he couldn’t make out any of his features. He was far enough away to be safe, and George didn’t want to waste another second. He took in a breath, he raised his arms and placed the skull in the sand, and he took a step back.

A few silent moments passed, during which George was left wondering if he did something wrong, but the answer came in the form of a blinding blue light. It emanated from the collection of sand and skulls, swirling around and driving a powerful wind that was enough to send George stumbling back onto the ground. Leaves were torn from nearby trees and hurled into the air with sticks and stones pushed from where they lay, the sky above turning a putrid green and filling with lightning. George lifted an arm to shield his eye from the worst of the light, shivering and breathing heavily as the Wither began to take form. 

The monster was huge, hovering several meters above the ground and scanning its surroundings with each of its three heads. Flesh clung close to its bones, and a shriek emerged in stereo. It was loud enough to send wildlife scrambling, birds flying from the trees and animals burrowing deeper underground to try and find safety. The world around George seemed to shake, as if the Earth itself were splitting in two, and as the Wither set its sights on him he closed his eye tightly to summon every bit of strength he had inside him.

When he opened it, he stood several dozen feet away from the beast and reached for the bow on his back, taking an arrow from his quiver and aiming. 

“Over here!” He called, attracting its attention once more as he shot. He had learned his lesson and did his best to adjust for the faults in his vision, and the arrow pierced the skull of the third head. It wasn’t a perfect aim - it hadn’t been his intended target - but it gave him a little insight of where he needed to be looking to hit it. George wasn’t given long to think that through, however, as the Wither screeched once more and began its own attack. Explosives shot from the creature’s mouth towards him and he ran, his free hand grabbing his shield for him to hide behind as the ground beneath his feet trembled. Dirt and grass was sent flying into the air, raining down over him and shaking his balance for a moment. As the world settled again he turned to face the creature, his shield fastened at his side once more as he grabbed his sword and ran head first into danger.

# # #

The explosions could be heard from the village and Sapnap turned to look behind him for the briefest of moments. He could see the Wither silhouetted against the sky, the clouds looking as if they were about to send a swarm of locusts hurtling towards them, and as the fight continued to encapsulate the attention of the villagers he tore his own gaze away. He needed to keep them safe.

“Everyone, follow me.” Sapnap yelled, running passed a group of people and back to the bell in the centre of the village. He rang it hurriedly, before jumping back down to the path and gesturing with his arm for others to follow him. “Follow me, we need to get as far away as possible!” 

The people were unquestioning in following his orders this time, and for good reason. As he watched those at the edge of the village run towards him, children crying while they were held close to their parents as they fled, he saw the monster’s heads turn to face them. Clearly George wasn’t as interesting of a target as he thought he would be, and as the creature began to fly towards them the people ran faster. Screams and cries were heard as families became separated in the rush, fear filling and driving everyone in the opposite direction of the Wither. 

Sapnap had his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice as he followed the stragglers of the group through the winding paths of the village.  _ So much for being the leader _ , but instincts led people well as they evacuated. There were a few people that lingered, each holding bows and arrows ready to fight if needed, and Sapnap did nothing to stop them. The more people that helped, the sooner this would be over with. 

He was pulled from his optimistic thoughts as the roof of a nearby building exploded and debris filled the sky. Bricks and tiles showered the villagers and the cries of children became louder. Sapnap continued to shout, trying to encourage people further away, and tried to ignore the bodies on the ground. Most were simply unconscious, but he had seen at least one person whose chest was still. They wouldn’t wake up again, they wouldn’t respawn, and he felt guilt settle in his stomach as he helped a young woman back to her feet when she stumbled.

“Sapnap!” Illumina called, pushing through the crowd and running towards him as fast as he could carry himself. “We cannot leave George to fight this thing alone. These people will be fine from here, we have to help him.”

Sapnap allowed himself to look back the way he’d come, the Wither shrieking as explosives hurled towards George who remained the lone figure on the horizon. With Illumina by his side he grabbed his sword and was quick to run back towards the open fields, struggling to keep his balance as the explosions rocked the ground beneath his feet. He could see George firing arrows from a distance, most missing but some managing to hit the creature, with others from the village doing the same from the relative safety that the buildings provided. 

It wasn’t going to last. Sapnap knew that this was going too well to last for much longer. 

As they reached the outskirts of the settlement Sapnap tried to find some kind of plan, a way to lure the Wither closer to the ground so he could be of some use with his sword, but George already seemed to be thinking of that himself. And then, as if he was watching some sick and twisted horror film where he had to lose the three people he cared about more than anything else in this world, he saw George vanish from sight and appear again just a little above the Wither, reaching out with an arm to grab a tight hold of it as he fell from the sky.

“No--” He whispered, standing in awe as he took in what had happened. George had  _ teleported _ . But worse than that, George had mounted the Wither and all Sapnap could play in his mind was the image of Bad clinging to the back of the Ender Dragon. 

“Don’t shoot!” He cried, those still aiming at the Wither lowering their bows. “Don’t shoot,  _ please _ , wait until George is safe.” He begged, his eyes unmoving as he watched George with baited breath. From this distance it was difficult to see what was happening, the shadows of the two beings blending into one as they fought in the sky. But it was impossible to ignore the pained scream that came from the Wither as George plunged his diamond sword into the beast’s chest. Its reaction was instant and violent, shaking roughly to remove the man from its back. 

Sapnap could do nothing but watch as he saw George’s body fall, his mind flashing back to Bad once more as he saw the tail of the creature whip around and catch his head before he plummeted to the ground and its attention was fixed on the village once more.

“Fire!” Illumina cried, and the villagers that had stopped fighting to offer George a moment of safety resumed their onslaught. Sapnap stood in a daze, but as the weakened creature approached them quickly and the ringing in his ears began to fade he raised his sword once more. 

_ For Dream _ , he whispered to himself.  _ This had all been for Dream _ .

# # #

The world around George was dark when he awoke, although it was impossible to tell if that had been because he was underground, because it was night, or because he simply couldn’t see. A sharp pain stung where his eyes should have been, but a gentle hold of his head brought him enough comfort to believe that everything was going to be okay.

_ “Where am I?”  _ He asked quietly, his voice barely a trembling whisper.  _ “I can’t see… What’s happening to me?”  _

“Rest, Lost One.” A voice replied. It wasn’t Dream or Bad or Sapnap, nor was it Illumina. He couldn’t recognise the voice as the one he’d heard when he’d left the end, but it was gentle. He felt  _ safe _ . “All will become clear soon.”

“But I don’t understand…” He said, and the pain he felt disappeared. He blinked, and the world around him came into focus. He was surrounded by friends, though he couldn’t recognise their faces. They cared for him, they had helped him, perhaps his prayer had been answered? But as soon as he had seen them, they were gone, and he was alone again. 

He closed his eyes and let his head roll to the side. For now, he could rest.

# # #

Sapnap was covered in blood, burns, debris and dirt, his arm was tired from fighting and the Wither was bearing down on them once more. It was weak - but so were they, and Sapnap felt utterly alone. He had thought that George was dead once before already, but there was no way to deny it this time. As he’d circled the Wither during the battle he’d been unable to find any trace of his body. The ground had been deformed after dozens of explosions and he doubted it could even be in one piece if he  _ did  _ find it. There was no bringing George back, he was simply gone.

Was that what the  _ Lost One  _ had meant? Sapnap made a mental note to punch Illumina as hard as he could when all of this was over, but he was brought back to reality as he felt the shockwave of an explosion a short distance behind him. He looked up, watching as two arrows stuck in the Wither and its body began to lean down to the side, and Illumina called out to rally the group of fighters.

“It’s almost dead, just a few more hits.”

He stood with his back to the village and Sapnap could see the damage that had been done. So much had been lost, giving up now was unthinkable. Despite his body’s protests he lifted his sword above his head and swung at the creature, slicing off the end of its tail as it dragged close to the ground.

“Just  _ die _ !” Sapnap yelled at it desperately. “I’ve lost  _ everything _ , kill me too if you have to but just  _ die _ !”

He punctuated his words with a lunge, his sword beheading one of the three heads of the creature as it fell lower and lower to the ground. It couldn’t fight back anymore, but that didn’t stop Sapnap from throwing all of his anger, hurt, and loneliness into his swings. He chopped again and again, the squelch of blood spurting and guts splitting in two the only thing reminding him that he was, in fact, still alive. 

The Wither was dead, but at what cost?

“Why wouldn’t you kill me too?” The words slipped from his mouth like an orison and his knees crumbled, his legs failing him and leaving him collapsing forwards. His frame landed uncomfortably on top of the Wither’s corpse and he balled his hand into a fist, hitting the ground as firmly as he could and repeating the action until his knuckles felt numbed with enough pain to distract him from everything else he felt.

Why did he have to live through all this alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me yesterday: yeah i'm still really sick i won't be posting another update soon  
> me less than 24 hours later: haha angst go brr


	11. Betrayal & Separation

The world around Sapnap was utterly destroyed, and it mirrored his own feelings all too well. His chest ached, darkness filling every corner of him and pulling him back further into his own mind that itself was full of regret, pain and hatred. Dream and Bad were dead, and George had most likely met a similar fate. He was alone, for the first time in years he was completely alone and he felt pained sobs clawing their way from his lungs. He didn’t bother to try and keep them in, letting the anguish out so it could no longer torment him, but his crying only became more and more intense and his throat quickly became sore. 

He was alone. All of this had been for Dream, but he’d lost everything. Dream was worth the world, but would Dream think that? Would he wake up and feel a weight of guilt on his shoulders too heavy to truly live? Would he feel responsible for his arm? For Bad’s life? For George? And what if he brought Bad back to life? Would the man be upset that his sacrifice to bring Dream back hadn’t worked? Would the loss of George in such a similar fashion wipe the smile off his face and the determination in his mind? 

Things would never be the same, and Sapnap couldn’t make the decision on his own.

He remained unaware of the people around him that searched for the Nether Star, looking to complete the beacon that he had suggested building. His stomach twisted with guilt -  _ had this all been his fault?  _ At least George would still have been by his side if they’d found another way to bring Dream and Bad back, things could have been just a little easier if he had someone to walk down this dark road with. 

His sobs lessened as time passed. The cries that had strained his throat became silent and dry as he ran out of tears, replaced instead with hiccups that shook his entire body. His hand was still balled up in a fist at his side, the pain of hitting the ground beginning to grow more apparent as adrenaline started to leave his system.

Now, he just felt empty.

The air around him was cold and he felt gentle drops of rain starting to fall from the sky. When he felt a hand on his shoulder he flinched, shifting his head a little so he could look up at whoever tried to garner his attention.

“We ought to head back to the village, Sapnap.” Illumina spoke softly. “The others are returning with the Star, the beacon will be finished and we will begin to rebuild.”

Sapnap waited for a moment longer before twisting his body and sitting upright. He looked towards the village - roofs blown off of buildings, walls crumbling and small fires burning. So much had been lost, he wasn’t the only person that would be mourning, but he was the one that could fix it. Illumina offered a hand to Sapnap and he took it silently, pulling himself to his feet and forcing his emotions aside.

“What do we do now?” He asked, his voice utterly deadpan and cold. “We make the potion, bring them back? How do we bring George back without a body?”

Illumina didn’t reply, and Sapnap knew exactly what that meant. It was impossible to bring George back without a body. As Illumina began to walk towards the village he felt anger rise within him, but not enough to shout or scream or demand answers. He wanted to know why this prophecy had taken everything from him - why the prophecy that had involved the four of them had left him alone - but instead he followed silently, the rain on his body washing away the struggles of the day.

The village looked worse from a distance, and for that Sapnap found himself grateful. The lives of other people weren’t as damaged as he had worried, but there was still plenty of destruction to be seen. Families gathered around each other, hugging and crying as they searched for those that they had lost when they had fled. Some people had the joy of a reunion, others found their friends unconscious on the ground and begged for them to wake up. A wail echoed around the streets - the telltale sign that someone had been given the worst possible news - and Sapnap felt as if he could be sick. 

All of this felt like his fault.

He returned to the bunkhouse briefly to find George’s bag still resting on his bed, and thanked whatever Gods there were that they had been sensible enough to leave that behind. He took out the bottles of Ghast tears and Dragon’s breath, looking at how they sat in his hand. It was impossible to forget that this was only enough to make the one potion, and given the scale of the challenge - the fact that the potion would bring them back from the dead but not heal them - he could say with near certainty that only giving a half dose and splitting it between the two would yield no effect.

He had to choose.

Illumina waited silently for him outside the bunkhouse and when he emerged, the two continued back to the church together. There was no conversation between them, although there was nothing that Sapnap wanted to say, and when they arrived Sapnap stood at the end of the aisle while Illumina continued further into the building. 

“Come with me.” He said, his voice reverberating around them in the hall. Sapnap did as he was told, his legs shaking and damn near buckling as he walked past Dream and Bad’s bodies. He refused to look at them, but they couldn’t escape his peripheral vision.  _ He had to choose _ . 

The room Illumina led him into was small and cosy, a complete difference to the rest of the building. The walls were lined with dark oak shelves and covered in bottles of all shapes and sizes. There were a number of potions within them, each a different colour and laid out in seemingly no real pattern or order, and Sapnap found himself observing them each carefully. Illumina watched from the corner of his eyes, allowing him to browse while he readied his brewing stand and found an old book to flick through. Looking through the small glasses on the tip of his nose to read the old tongue he hummed to himself quietly, finding the recipe and reading.

“We need to distill the Dragon’s breath into a liquid before we can combine it with the Ghast tears to make this. It will only take a few minutes to lower the temperature enough for it to liquify.” He said, holding out a hand for the bottle. Sapnap gave it to him unquestioningly, moving to lean against a stone wall. He was beyond exhausted from the last week and had now just become utterly numb. He had no one to try and make laugh, no spirits to keep up, just himself. He watched Illumina setting up his apparatus, and was utterly mesmerized by the process of distillation as he saw the Dragon’s breath turning into liquid as it hit a cold metal surface and began to drip down into a small flask. It was purple and sparkled as it swirled, almost as if a galaxy itself was being born - it was almost beautiful. 

Illumina silently held his hand out once more and Sapnap gave him the small bottle of Ghast tears, watching as the man took the liquid and slowly poured it into the flask with the Dragon’s breath. The two liquids reacted together instantly, frothing and fizzing away with small sparks erupting from the cloud of gas produced. The liquid darkened as Illumina mixed the two together, the purple fading into a dark blue, and he looked back to the book to read a little further through the text.

“This should work.” He said, looking to Sapnap with a cautious smile. “This potion should bring back one of your friends.”

“How did you know how to make it?” Sapnap asked quietly. “When we came to you and asked for a funeral for our friend you didn’t tell us about this. A traveller told us about it that night. If you knew, why didn’t you offer it to us at first?”

“Look at all that you have been through, what you have lost.”

“We made our choice, saving Dream was worth it.” Sapnap said defiantly, but as the cleric held the potion out before him he hesitated.

“Then give this to Dream.”

He had said that saving Dream was worth it with such certainty, and at the start of all this they  _ had  _ been certain of that, but now it felt like an insult to Bad and to George. Were they not worth it too? He took the potion from Illumina and looked down at it, blinking and realising that his eyes had once again filled with tears. 

“Bad and Dream could both--”

“There’s only enough for one.” Illumina said. “You are right, you made your choice, saving Dream was worth it. So save him.”

Sapnap blinked and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he turned away from Illumina to walk back into the main hall of the church. He looked at the windows, studying the story they told for the first time, and he could see the stained glass painting a picture of a Wither: the window had been shattered, the person preparing to fight the beast now broken fragments on the floor below. He pulled his attention away from it and tried to ignore the way the universe was laughing at him for the metaphor it had so perfectly presented, and he instead moved to stand between Bad and Dream’s bodies.

They lay side by side, both peaceful and utterly still. He could still hear Dream’s laughter in his mind, the memories of a shared childhood clinging to him tightly and tying his stomach in knots. Dream was the person he had grown up with, Dream was his family more than Bad or George could ever be. For the last decade they had been there for each other, through both their highest and lowest points, and to think he could live in a world in which he didn’t have just one more hug from him was impossible. He needed Dream back, a part of him would always be missing if he remained dead.

When he looked to Bad he saw nothing but kindness in all of his features, even his bloodstained hoodie reminded him of just how self-sacrificing and supportive he had been. Sapnap might not have known Bad for the same period of time, but Bad had immediately become a close friend to them all. He had done everything in his power to keep them all safe as they journeyed on, even pushing his own feelings aside for the sake of preserving them a little longer. Sapnap wondered if they’d found that iron on the mountains all that time ago - if he’d had a shield and never lost his arm - would Bad have had to devote so much of his focus to keeping the rest of the team afloat? Could he have thought about himself a little more and avoided the reckless decision that, combined with George’s stupidity, had cost him his life?

Was Bad’s death entirely on his shoulders?

“How am I supposed to choose?” He croaked out, sitting on the floor between the two of them and placing the potion in front of him. Even now, when all he wanted to do was reach out and take their hands, he had to make a choice. Who would bring him more comfort, who did he want to say goodbye to? 

Why did he have to choose alone?

He closed his eyes and let his head fall, focusing his thoughts as logically as he could.

Bad had agreed that this was worth it to bring Dream back, so surely if he sacrificed himself and he  _ didn’t  _ give the potion to Dream he would wake up unhappy, and the two would have to find a new way to bring Dream back (if there even was one) without George. It would be more dangerous, especially given the state Bad had been in before he died, there was no telling that it would even be possible. But Sapnap wasn’t sure he could live with the guilt that Bad’s absence placed on him, even with Dream by his side. And how would Dream feel? Waking up to find out what had happened in the days after he’d died, how much his friends had given to bring him back? If the three of them could have all stood around him - broken, bruised, but alive - then maybe things would have been okay, but Sapnap couldn’t imagine the pain of realising two of your friends were dead just to bring you back. Bad would at least have an idea of what was happening around them.

There was then the question of the extent of their injuries. The beacon was supposed to heal them, but what if it didn’t work? What if they simply woke up in pain? If Dream was paralysed from the fall, or Bad coughed up blood until he died again? Sapnap realised his hand was trembling at the mere thought of it all, and he bit his bottom lip lightly. 

He couldn’t choose.

Sapnap got to his feet and took the potion in his hand, walking to the altar and leaving it there. Maybe if he spent a little while longer thinking he would find an answer, maybe he would find a sign telling him what to do.

As he left the church, he felt Illumina’s gaze on him. He tried to ignore how his eyes felt on his back, the chill that ran down his spine as he opened the door and found that the rain had become more persistent. Hearing a rumble of thunder in the distance he sighed, lowering his head as he walked out into the cold.

# # # 

When George opened his eyes he was acutely aware of his surroundings for the first time in days, even if they were blurry at first. 

As he sat up he could feel his head spinning but ignored the pain, blinking and focusing his eyes entirely on the cave around him. It was dark, but the darkness felt like a comforting blanket that enveloped him and kept him warm, and he could still make out some of the features of the wall. He could see the dull outline of exposed ore, jagged rocks that marked out the world around him, and monsters marching around him without notice.

Was he dead? 

George got to his feet slowly, his hands stretched out either side of him to help keep his balance as he looked to his left and his right and blinked. He could see, though the world was made up entirely from different shades of blue and purple. Well, it was certainly a different experience than just seeing blue and yellow, but it almost felt more lackluster. He closed one eye at a time and found that he could see from both individually, and a wave of questions hit him as he began to regain his memories of how he’d arrived to be where he was. 

Had the Wither been killed? Had Dream been brought back to life? How long had he been unconscious and underground? The list continued, but his mind focused back on the moment. He needed to find a way out of the cave, and so he began to walk. He was slow at first, his body sluggish from unconsciousness, but soon found the strength he needed to keep going. He followed the path upwards, struggling over steep slopes and wincing whenever he found his fingers coming into contact with water. When he saw moonlight streaming down he smiled to himself, and found one last burst of energy within to help him finally climb out of the Earth itself.

One of his questions was answered as soon as he could see the horizon - in the distance he saw a bright ray of light. A beacon.  _ The Wither was dead, the beacon worked, he could bring Dream home _ . Maybe Sapnap had already given him the potion, maybe he would be awake by the time George returned, and the prospect of seeing his friend again after all this time and effort pushed him onwards. The promise of leaving his friends, for now, remained forgotten as he began to run through a thick forest straight towards the village.

George’s mind was elsewhere, and so he didn’t notice how the mobs that surrounded him left him alone. He didn’t realise that the whispers that had clouded his mind before had all but disappeared. Though when he splashed through a puddle of water he felt a pain running up his ankle and a sudden itching sensation. It distracted him enough to slow down just a little, his eyes keeping a careful watch for any more water ahead, and when he found himself breaking free of the forest with a lake between him and the village he stopped, disheartened. 

He had been so close to Dream, but now he felt so very far away.

Stopping at the shore he sighed, casting his gaze down to the reflection in the water. Illuminated only by the moon he looked at himself, watching his features closely as they fragmented in the water.

He was a monster.

He blinked and looked away, not wanting to see himself for even a moment longer, pulling his hood over his head and trying to hide himself away as much as possible. He knew it would be impossible to remain completely unseen, but he wouldn’t stay for long. As soon as Dream was safe he would slip away before the prophecy could take hold of him any further. He was the Lost One, he was an experiment, he was a beast and no longer belonged in this world with his friends.

No longer denying what he was, he focused his energy on teleporting to quicken his journey around the lake and bring him closer to the village faster. He found that the process exhausted him quickly, and while it came naturally to him it wasn’t a perfect science, but each leap became a little easier and he found himself moving with more precision. He put a stop to it outside of the village, not wanting to draw any attention to himself as he arrived and began to walk the streets. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, hidden away from the world like the rest of him as he kept his eyes focused on the cobble path that led to the church. The path he had walked time and time again. Maybe Sapnap would be sitting there with Dream already, maybe everything would be okay.

Except when he entered the church and clung to the shadows of the hall he found himself alone. Dream and Bad both lay side by side, still dead, and Sapnap was nowhere to be found. The light from the beacon came streaming through the windows with an intensity that was stronger than he was used to - it made him uncomfortable - but the world was strangely beautiful. He walked down the aisle slowly, hearing glass crunch under his feet from the battle that had been fought, and he assumed that he hadn’t been gone for too long. He brought his hands out of his pockets without fear of being seen as he approached the altar, finding the potion that had been left. With the light from the beacon filling the world it almost appeared to glow, shimmering gently with sparkles of purple and calling out to him softly. He could understand the whispers now, the sound a gentle request rather than a confusing conglomeration of nonsense, and even without the words telling him what he needed to do he already had his mind set.

Bring Dream back.

He took the potion from the altar and moved to Dream’s side, moving one hand behind his head and lifting it up gently before he brought the elixir to his lips and began to slowly pour the liquid into his mouth. It was difficult to make him drink, but George took his time coaxing it down his throat until the potion had been entirely consumed. He didn’t know how long it would take to work, but he would remain in the church until it did. Dream’s body already felt just a little warmer and so as George lay him back in place, he didn’t stray too far.

He paced a little way from his body to look at relics on the wall, trying to interpret what they were or the significance they may play in this religion he knew nothing about. A religion he was, apparently, directly entwined with.

The tips of George’s fingers ran carefully across a mask that looked older than anything else on display. It appeared to be made from bone, carved to cover the face of the wearer perfectly. He wondered what it had been used for, and what it could mean to the people of this village, and he picked it up to examine it a little closer.

It was lighter than he had thought it would be, his fingers expecting to find jagged edges but instead coming into contact with a smooth finish. In a moment of sheer curiosity he brought it up to his own face, pressing his features against the cool surface and feeling as the mask slipped over them perfectly. It pinched the bridge of his nose gently and remained on his face as he took his hands away, and while it only added to the long list of questions that George wished to be answered he found himself accepting it with little thought. His life had changed too much in the last few days for it to be unexpected, and now he would rather be focused on Dream’s recovery than himself. Still, he felt comfortable with the mask hiding his face, and he walked back to sit at Dream’s side once more. While the man was still unconscious he let his fingers gently press against the back of Dream’s hand, tracing old letters against him as he watched his body closely. 

He saw when Dream’s chest began to rise and fall once more, his lips parting every so slightly to allow himself to breathe, and he felt his hand twitching beneath his touch. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly and the peaceful sleep he had been in had clearly been replaced with pain. The beacon would help his injuries heal, George could only hope he would remain unconscious until the worst of it was over.

The room was utterly silent as Dream began to stir, but George’s focus on him shattered the moment the door to the church opened. 

Sapnap stood in the doorway, looking utterly exhausted, and seeing a masked man hovering over Dream’s body terrified him for a moment before he realised who he was looking at.

_ “George--”  _ He whispered breathlessly, staring at him in disbelief for a long moment before quick strides covered the ground between the two of them and brought him to his friends side. “What happened, you were gone, I thought I’d lost you  _ again _ !” He exclaimed, standing several paces back. While his anger from the End had dissipated quickly when he’d thought George was dead, it didn’t fade this time. It was still there, and bringing the older man into an embrace didn’t cross his mind for a moment.

“I don’t know.” George said, and before Sapnap could pry any further Dream coughed. It caught the attention of both of them and they stared at Dream, anticipating him sitting up. When he didn’t move again Sapnap spoke.

“You gave him the potion?” He asked slowly.

“Not too long ago, he’s waking up quickly, the beacon is healing his wo--”

“What about Bad?”

Silence fell between the two of them, deafening and all encompassing before George dared to speak again.

“What about him?”

“Did you think about bringing him back before you gave Dream the potion?”

Another silence, and that told Sapnap everything he needed to know. George was gone, his friend had vanished even if he wasn’t dead, and he felt something snap inside of him.

“You didn’t give a  _ shit  _ about Bad, did you?” He demanded. “You said we’d do this at the pub, you’re the one that bought into this scheme before any of the rest of us did. You’d risk anything to bring back Dream, even us. We never mattered to you, admit it.”

“Sapnap--”

“Don’t try and fucking  _ barter  _ with me, George. Say it, say you don’t give a shit whether we live or die so long as you can have your fucking boyfriend back. You’re enough of a monster for thinking it, but lying about it? Pretending you’ve ever cared about us? After everything we’ve been through together it meant nothing to you? Dream is like my brother, do you know how hard it is to choose something like this? To try and pick which of my friends I think I can live without?”

His words rolled off his tongue without regret, profanities sprinkled in to try and drive home to George just how angry he was. There was nothing he could do to express his hurt, the betrayal that he felt deep inside of him from one of the people he trusted most in this world. With his fury driving him he closed the gap between them, grabbing George by the front of his hoodie and taking several steps forward until he pinned the smaller man against the wall. 

“You find out you’re some fucking  _ prophecy  _ and decide that makes you a God? You get to decide this shit without talking to the rest of us? Bad is our friend, you killed him and you didn’t even consider bringing him back! Do you feel any remorse for what you’ve done?”

“Sapnap?”

The shouting stopped, blood pumping through Sapnap’s body filled with rage and fire the only thing he could hear as his brain processed the voice he had heard.

“Dream--” He said, turning on the spot and dropping George, running towards him and pulling him into a quick embrace. He closed his eyes tightly, his hand moving to Dream’s head as he pulled the man closer just to remind himself that he was real. He was back, he was alive, breathing and talking and  _ okay _ . 

“Where am I?”

His voice was hoarse and broken, a week without food and drink had taken its toll on the man even if he hadn’t been alive to experience any of it, and Sapnap pulled back to look at him properly. Tears filled his eyes as he felt a smile creep onto his face, the anger at George pushed aside but not forgotten. This, however, he hadn’t considered.

How much was he supposed to say?

“You’re safe.” George said from a few paces back, his voice flat and emotionless and Sapnap felt himself see red for just a moment at how  _ monotone  _ he sounded. He really  _ didn’t  _ care.

“We lost you.” Sapnap said, looking at Dream sadly. “You’ve been dead for a week, you never respawned, you don’t want to know what we’ve done to get you back.” He said, a weak laugh falling from his lips. “Seriously, you’d kill us.”

“I… Died?” Dream repeated. Any other time it could have been joking, his cocky nature suggesting that he couldn’t believe he’d been bested in a manhunt, but his tone was filled with terror as he processed what had happened. He swallowed lightly, his dry throat hurting at the simple motion, and he blinked a few times to try and focus himself on the world around him. The bright light of the beacon stung his eyes - though they hadn’t opened fully just yet - and his vision was more splotches of colour than any real, solid images, but it was enough to make out that something was wrong with Sapnap. The man could see the change in Dream’s expression as his eyes flickered to where his left arm should’ve been and he tried to joke.

“A Wither Skeleton hit me, we had to cut it off. Don’t worry, I’m all-right now.” He said, his laugh shaky and fragile. “I’m just glad you’re back, if we’d lost you forever, if we’d done all of this for nothing…”

“Where’s Bad?” He asked next, and that sent an arrow straight into Sapnap’s chest. Of course he’d ask that - he was sitting in front of the man and George had spoken, Bad’s absence stuck out like a sore thumb.

“He didn’t make it.” George replied from behind him, and Sapnap’s grip on Dream tightened just a little. 

“He--” Dream said, suddenly feeling much more alert even if he really  _ wasn’t _ . He sat up a little straighter and Sapnap supported him as he turned to look around, his eyes landing immediately on Bad’s body and taking in the man beside him. He looked so small, so peaceful, yet so broken. Dream could make out the blood on his clothes and trembled, his stomach churning and bile threatening to come up. 

“He’s dead?”

“We had to get Dragon’s breath to make the potion to bring you back, but we’re not respawning. So everything we did… We knew the risks before we started. We all decided you were worth it. I can replace my arm, I can’t replace you.” Sapnap replied softly. “You need to get your strength back, we can find a way to bring Bad back once you’re back on your feet.”

“I’m fine, I’m on my feet.” Dream insisted, swivelling his body around and forcing himself to stand up. He felt light headed and almost instantly found himself swaying to and fro, but Sapnap kept him from falling and let him adjust to putting weight on his legs again. His muscles must’ve deteriorated over the last few days and while the beacon would help him recover, Sapnap could only assume it would take time.

With Dream now standing he took a moment to look in the direction George’s voice had come from and saw the man standing several feet away, a mask covering his face and his body hidden in shadows. 

“George?” He asked quietly, trying to gain his attention. “Did you--”

“I’m fine. I should go.”

His reply was delivered passively again and as he began to walk away from the pair Dream looked to Sapnap for an explanation. Sapnap offered him a look of apology - he had wanted to at least give Dream a little time to recover before doing this - but George gave him no choice.

“You’re leaving us then? You’ve had your fill of murder and you’re just going to abandon us to fix the problems you’ve caused?”

Dream blinked at Sapnap’s words, his tone harsher than he’d ever remembered him using. But the accusation too was something that left him utterly blown away. George had killed them? Of course he remembered falling from the ravine, George pushing him down, but that had been the aim of the game and Dream would never blame him for doing that. 

“George?” His voice was soft, and while George hadn’t stopped to acknowledge Sapnap’s words his legs refused to carry him any further when Dream spoke, turning around to face him. “Is it true?”

“I killed Bad.” George replied, his voice echoing around them and hammering away in Dream’s mind. “And I wanted to kill Sapnap, I  _ tried  _ to kill Sapnap.” Perhaps this would make his absence sting a little less if Dream knew the truth, maybe the friends could move on without him peacefully if he was honest. “I am a monster, and you aren’t safe as long as I am here.”

He didn’t wait for another word of a reply as he turned to leave once more and Sapnap let go of Dream to follow after him. The anger had resurfaced and he didn’t want Dream to see just how badly they had all been affected by this rescue mission. Their physical wounds were enough, but the least they could do was keep the mental damage hidden.

It didn’t help. As Dream was left alone to grapple with the reality he faced his stomach bubbled with anger and regret, with a fierce self-hatred he had never felt so strongly and with a sickening isolation that clung to him like miasma. He was left face to face with Bad, one of the kindest men he had ever known who had died at the hands of a man that he thought was his friend. He had died for  _ him _ . He wasn’t worth this, no part of him was worth this level of suffering. 

Without a moment to process his thoughts Dream stumbled through the aisle of the church, using the backs of the pews to support himself as his body became used to movement once more, and he pushed open the doors using his entire body. Sapnap and George were nowhere to be seen, day was beginning to break (though the beacon made it painfully difficult to tell) and his mind was running a thousand miles an hour. The destruction of the village around him was reminiscent of one thing - the explosive attacks of a Wither - and as Dream realised just how far his friends had gone to bring him back he felt his stomach tighten and he leaned over, retching out bile until he fell to his knees and his body shook from weakness and exhaustion. He wasn’t worth the damage that had been done, and he needed to get away from the reminders of the pain his death had brought.

Despite his entire body screaming for him to close his eyes and rest he pushed on, his hands using the walls of the church to pull himself to his feet so he could begin to move once more. First stumbling, then walking, then running away from the cobblestone paths and into grassland. He needed to escape, to run, he had to find a way to bring Bad back for all he’d sacrificed wrongly in his name. 

But he wouldn’t bring this level of suffering to anyone else, he would do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'm gonna be posting more slowly because i'm tired  
> also me: haha 13k in 3 days go brrr
> 
> but there we have it, the last chapter of the beginning? i hope you've all enjoyed this part of the adventure, but the story is far from over! please please scream at me in the comments, yell at me on twitter and come join the discord therapy server to listen to me laugh at your pain (i mean, apologise profusely for what i've done), and drop any theories you have about what you think dream might end up doing to bring back bad. i promise you that it involves a grand total of 0 brain cells and no impulse control!
> 
> oh, and the next fic will be called "a hero divided", so stay tuned for the first chapter appearing in a few days!
> 
> edit: if you have a spare moment, could you help me with some thoughts on how the series should play out? i've got two ideas i'd like to pursue and can't decide which (and having them both happen makes it less impactful) - vote here! https://twitter.com/amooniesong/status/1287845668527042561

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter - https://twitter.com/amooniesong  
> I'll be updating this weekly on Mondays and Fridays AND I WILL STICK TO THAT PROMISE THIS TIME! This is the first of three stories in the as of yet unnamed Minecraft Manhunt AU so I hope you'll stick around - lots of angst to come, but I do promise it'll end happily! If you need to come shout at me some more feel free to ask for an invite to the discord server!
> 
> edit: i have immediately broken the update schedule promise, oops, don't kill me :)


End file.
